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THE   ODES  OF  HORACE 


GLADSTONE 


THE    ODES    OF    HORACE 

TRANSLATED    INTO    ENGLISH 
BY   W.    E.    GLADSTONE      *      * 


CHARLES   SCRIBNER'S  SONS 
NEW  YORK         MDCCCXCIV 


COPYRIGHT,  1894,  BY 
CHARLES  SCRIBNER'S  SONS 


TROW  DIRECTORY 
riNG  AND  BOOKBINDING  COMPAN 
NEW  YORK 


PREFACE 


THE  Translations  of  the  Horatian  Odes  already 
known  to  the  public  are  numerous ;  and  their  stand- 
ard is  not  mean  ;  so  that  the  question  may  fairly  be 
put,  Why  add  to  the  number?  and  that  question  is 
entitled  to  receive  an  answer. 

My  answer  for  the  present  is  as  follows.  There 
is,  in  my  view,  one  special  necessity  of  translation 
from  Horace,  which  has,  so  far  as  I  know,  hereto- 
fore received  in  many  quarters  what  seems  to  me  a 
very  inadequate  share  of  attention ;  that  is  to  say, 
the  necessity  of  compression.  So  far  as  I  am  aware, 
Milton  in  earlier  days,  and  Conington  in  our  own, 
are  conspicuous  exceptions,  but  are  almost  the  only 
exceptions,  to  this  observation.  And  without  com- 
pression, in  my  opinion,  a  translation  from  Horace, 
whatever  its  other  merits  may  be,  ceases  to  be 
Horatian :  ceases,  that  is,  to  represent  the  original. 
It  also  ceases  to  represent  the  author,  who,  more  per- 


vi  PREFACE 

haps  than  any  writer  among  the  ancients,  has  re- 
vealed his  personality  in  his  works :  a  personality 
highly  interesting,  and  yet  more  signally  instructive. 
Accepting  thankfully  the  great  lesson  and  example 
of  Mr.  Conington,  I  find  other  points  of  importance, 
where  I  am  compelled  to  dissent  from  the  rules  he 
has  laid  down.  One  of  these  rules  is  that  all  Odes, 
which  Horace  has  written  in  one  and  the  same 
metre,  are  to  be  rendered  in  one  and  the  same  metre 
by  his  translators.  I  think  there  are  at  least  two 
fundamental  objections  to  this  rule.  The  first  is 
that  the  quantity  of  matter,  which  the  poet  has  given 
in  the  same  forms  of  stanza,  is  by  no  means  uniform  ; 
and,  if  uniformity  is  to  govern  the  translation,  the 
space  available  for  conveying  what  has  to  be  con- 
veyed will  be  sometimes  too  great,  and  sometimes 
too  small.  There  is  another  objection,  which  lies 
yet  nearer  the  root  of  the  matter.  Horace  has  in 
numerous  cases  employed  the  same  metre  for  Odes 
the  most  widely  divergent  in  subject  and  character. 
Nothing,  for  example,  can  be  farther  apart  in  their 
spirit  than  Ode  I.  ix,  suggested  by  the  view  of 
Soracte,  and  the  great  Ode  of  Regulus  (III.  v),  the 
loftiest  in  the  whole  collection.  But  these  are  both 


PREFACE  Vii 

written  in  Alcaics.  Again,  the  Ode  on  Hyper- 
mnestra  may  fairly  be  called  heroic ;  while  the  Ode 
addressed  to  Lydia  in  the  First  Book  (xxv)  is 
amatory  and  in  a  high  degree  coarse.  Yet  both  of 
them  are  Sapphic  Odes.  Horace  knew  the  capacities 
of  his  respective  metres,  and  how  far  he  could  make 
each  of  them  elastic  for  particular  varieties  of  use. 
But  it  does  not  follow  that  any  one  English  metre, 
which  the  translator  may  have  chosen  for  some 
one  Horatian  Ode,  will  be  equally  supple,  and 
equally  effective,  for  conveying  the  spirit  and  effect 
of  every  other  Ode  which  Horace  may  have  found 
it  practicable  to  construct  under  the  same  metrical 
conditions.  Every  one  of  the  Odes,  as  a  rule,  has  a 
spirit,  genius,  and  movement  of  its  own ;  and  I  hold 
that  the  translator  from  Horace  should  both  claim 
and  exercise  the  largest  possible  freedom  in  varying 
his  metres,  so  as  to  adapt  them  in  each  case  to  the 
original  with  which  he  has  to  deal.  To  adopt  this 
rule  is  not  really  to  relax  the  laws  of  his  work,  but 
only  to  improve  the  instrument  with  which  he  is  to 
perform  it. 

The  conditions  of  that  work,  if  it  is  to  be  properly 
done,  are,  as  I  view  them,  sufficiently  severe.     He 


Viii  PREFACE 

should  largely  abridge  the  syllabic  length  of  his 
Latin  text :  should  carry  compression  to  the  farthest 
practicable  point:  should  severely  limit  his  use  of 
licentious  and  imperfect  rhymes :  should  avoid  those 
irregularities  in  the  use  of  the  English  genitive, 
which  are  so  fatal  to  euphony:  even  though  he  find 
any  of  them  supported  by  the  authority  of  Shake- 
speare, for  example  in  the  line — 

Come,  Cassius'  sword,  and  find  Titinius'  heart.1 

He  should  endeavour,  with  whatever  changes  of 
mere  form,  to  preserve  in  all  cases  the  sense  and 
point  of  his  author,  and  should  sparingly  allow  the 
perilous  but  seductive  doctrine  of  free  translation. 
At  the  same  time  he  must  respect  the  genius  of 
the  English  tongue,  and  aim  at  the  easy  flow  of 
his  numbers.  With  these  purposes  in  his  eye,  he 
will  find  that  he  has  no  easy  task  in  hand. 

Perhaps  a  serious,  even  if  very  imperfect,  en- 
deavour  to  attain  these  ends  may  excuse  or  warrant 
the  addition  made  by  this  small  volume  to  the  ex- 
isting translations  of  the  Horatian  Odes. 

HAWARDEN  CASTLE, 
Sept.  10,  1894. 

^Julius  Caesar,  v.  3. 


CONTENTS 


BOOK  I 

PAGE 

ODE  I.    To  MAECENAS          .....  i 

II.   To  AUGUSTUS 3 

III.  THE  SHIP  OF  VIRGIL       ....  5 

IV.  To  THE  RICH  SEXTIUS     ....  7 
V.    To  PYRRHA 8 

VI.    To  AGRIPPA     ......         9 

VII.    To  PLANCUS 10 

VIII.    To  LYDIA n 

IX.    To  THALIARCHUS 12 

X.    To  MERCURY 13 

XL    To  LEUCONO£ 14 

XII.    To  AUGUSTUS  .         .         .         .         .14 

XIII.  To  LYDIA 17 

XIV.  To  THE  SHIP  OF  STATE  .         .         .18 
XV.    THE  FALL  OF  TROY         .         .         .  19 

XVI.    A  PALINODE  21 

XVII.    To  TYNDARIS 22 

XVIII.  To  QUINTILIUS  VARUS     .         .         .         -23 

XIX.    ON  GLYCERA 25 

XX.    To  MAECENAS 25 

XXL  THE  DELIAN  GODS           .         .         .         .26 

XXII.  IN  PRAISE  OF  LALAGE      .        .         .         -27 

XXIII.  To  CHLOE                                            .         .       28 


CONTENTS 


ODE 

PAGE 

XXIV. 

To  VIRGIL       

29 

XXV. 

To  LYDIA        

3° 

XXVI. 

To  THE  MUSES        

31 

XXVII. 

A  BANQUET     

31 

XXVIII. 

ARCHYTAS         ...... 

32 

XXIX. 

To  Iccius        

34 

XXX. 

To  VENUS       ...... 

35 

XXXI. 

PHILOSOPHY  OF  LIFE        .... 

36 

XXXII. 

His  LYRE        

37 

XXXIII. 

To  ALBIUS  TIBULLUS       .... 

38 

XXXIV. 

His  RELIGION          ..... 

39 

XXXV. 

To  FORTUNA           

40 

XXXVI. 

FOR  NUMIDA'S  RETURN 

42 

XXXVII. 

THE  DEATH  OF  CLEOPATRA 

43 

XXXVIII. 

To  HIS  SERVANT     

44 

BOOK   II 

ODE  I. 

To  ASINIUS  POLLIO           .... 

45 

II. 

To  SALUSTIUS           ..... 

47 

III. 

To  DELLIUS              ..... 

48 

IV. 

To  XANTHIAS           ..... 

49 

V. 

ON  LALAGE     

5° 

VI. 

To  SEPTIMIUS           ..... 

51 

VII. 

To  HIS  COMRADE  POMPEIUS 

53 

VIII. 

To  BARINE       

54 

IX. 

To  VALGIUS,  AGAINST  EXCESSIVE  MOURNING. 

55 

X. 

To  LICINIUS             

56 

XL 

To  QUINTIUS  HIRPINUS 

58 

XII. 

To  MAECENAS          ..... 

59 

XIII. 

To  THE  CURSED  TREE     .... 

60 

XIV. 

To  POSTUMUS           ..... 

62 

XV. 

AGAINST  THE  ABSORPTION   OF  CULTIVATED 

AND    OPEN    LANDS    BY   VILLAS 

63 

XVI. 

To  GROSPHUS          .         .                  . 

64 

CONTENTS 


XI 


ODE 

XVII.  To  MAECENAS        .... 

XVIII.  PHILOSOPHY  OF  LIFE 

XIX.  PRAISE  OF  BACCHUS 

XX.  ON  HIS  TRANSLATION  TO  THE  SKIES 


66 
68 
69 


BOOK   III 

ODE  I.  ON  MODERATION 

II.  ON  THE  OLD  ROMAN  CHARACTER 

III.  ON  JUSTICE 

IV.  THE  RULE  OF  THE  MUSES 
V.  ON  SOLDIERLY  SPIRIT     . 

VI.  RESTORATION  OF  RELIGION 

VII.  To  ASTERIE 

VIII.  To  MAECENAS 

IX.  HORACE  AND  LYDIA 

X.  To  LYCE  IN  BLOOM 

XL  To  MERCURY,  ON  HYPERMNESTRA 

XII.  To  NEOBULE 

XIII.  To  THE  FOUNTAIN  OF  BANDUSIA 

XIV.  To  ROME       .... 
XV.  To  CHLORIS,  A  CRONE 

XVI.  THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  LIFE 

XVII.  To  AELIUS  LAMIA 

XVIII.  To  FAUNUS 

XIX.  To  TELEPHUS     — , -r~     . 

XX.  To  PYRRHUS 

XXI.  To  HIS  CASK 

XXII.  To  DIANA 

XXIII.  To  PHIDYLE 

XXIV.  REFORMATION 
XXV.  To  BACCHUS 

XXVI.  ON  CHLOE     .... 

XXVII.  THE  RAPE  OF  EUROPA  . 


73 

75 
77 
80 

83 
86 
88 
90 

9i 
92 

93 
96 

97 
98 

99 

100 

102 
103 
104 

I°5 

106 

107 
107 
108 
in 

112 


Xll 


CONTENTS 


ODE 

XXVIII.    To  LYDE       . 

XXIX.   To  MAECENAS 

XXX.   AN  EPILOGUE 


PACK 

116 
117 

I2O 


BOOK  IV 

ODE  I.  To  VENUS 

II.  To  JULUS  ANTONIUS      .... 

III.  To  MELPOMENE 

IV.  THE  VICTORY  OF  DRUSUS 

V.  To  AUGUSTUS 

VI.  APOLLO,  AND  HIS  OWN  OFFICE  AS  POET 

VII.  TO  TORQUATUS ;  THE  CONTRAST  OF  NATURE 
AND  LIFE          ..... 

VIII.  To  CENSORINUS 

IX.  To  LOLLIUS 

X.  To  LIGURINUS 

XI.  To  PHYLLIS 

XII.  To  VIRGILIUS  : 

XIII.  To  LYCE;  IN  DECAY      .... 

XIV.  VICTORY  OF  TIBERIUS     .... 
XV.  To  AUGUSTUS 


123 
124 
127 
128 
132 


136 
i37 
138 
141 
141 

i43 

144 

US 
148 


CARMEN   SAECULARE 


THE   ODES  OF   HORACE 


THE 

ODES    OF    HORACE 


BOOK    I 


ODE   I 

TO   MAECENAS 

MAECENAS,  born  of  ancient  kings, 
From  whom  my  strength,  mine  honour  springs. 
Some  reckon  for  the  crown  of  life 
The  dust  in  the  Olympian  strife, 
The  goal  well  shunned,  the  palm  that,  given, 
Lifts  lords  of  earth  to  lords  of  heaven. 

One,  if  to  him  the  Roman  crowd 
Its  threefold  honours  have  allowed  : 
One,  if  his  private  granary  stores 
A  mass,  to  match  with  Libyan  floors. 
One  hoes  paternal  fields,  content, 
On  hardest  terms.     Will  he  consent, 


THE   ODES   OF   HORACE  [BOOK  I 

A  trembling  mariner,  to  brave, 
In  Cyprian  bark,  Myrtoan  wave  ? 

Icarian  floods,  south-western  gale, 
These,  battling,  turn  the  trader  pale : 
He  lauds  his  town,  his  fields,  his  ease  ; 
But  soon  refits,  and   roams  the  seas ; 
For  want  with  commerce  ill  agrees. 

And  some  old  Massic  wine  desire, 
Hours  stolen  from  the  day's  entire, 
With  shade  of  arbutus  for  bed, 
By  hallowed  water's  tranquil  head. 

But  more  affect  the  camp,  the  war, 
That  mothers  with  its  din  abhor 
Of  trump  and  horn.     The  sportsman  dares 
The  cold,  and  home  and  wife  forbears, 
When  Marsian  boar  hath  broke  the  snares, 
Too  slim,  or  when  his  trusty  pack 
The  hind  have  scented  on  her  track. 

But  ivy,  prize  of  culture's  brow, 
With  gods  above  us  mates  me  now  : 
Me  the  cool  grove,  the  bounding  choir 
Of  Nymphs,  with  Satyrs  grouped,  inspire, 
Far  off  the  vulgar ;   if  the  lyre 
Of  Polyhymnia  be  not  mute, 
And  if  Euterpe  grants  the  flute. 

Count  me  for  lyric  minstrel  thou, 
The  stars  to  kiss  my  head  will  bow. 


ODE  II]  THE   ODES   OF   HORACE 

ODE   II 

TO    AUGUSTUS 

ENOUGH,  O  Sire,  thine  hailstorms  swell, 
Thy  snow  descends ;  thy  red  right  hand 
Hath  smit  the  holy  citadel, 
And  fear  hath  seized  the  Roman  land  ; 

Yea,  all  the  lands,  lest  portent  new 

The  signs  of  Pyrrha's  age  fulfil, 
His  herd  of  seals  when  Proteus  drew 

To  bask  upon  the  topmost  hill. 

The  elm-tree  top  to  fishy  kinds, 

Of  old  the  dove's  familiar  nest, 
Gave  harbour ;   while  the  trembling  hinds 

The  plunging  waters  strove  to  breast. 

We  saw  when  golden  Tiber  stood 
Back-holden  on  his  Tuscan  shore, 

And  then  on  Vesta's  fane  his  flood 
And  Numa's  palace  fiercely  bore. 

He  brags  of  vengeance,  to  requite 

His  Ilia's  well-lamented  woes, 
Uxorious  river !   and  despite 

Of  Jove  his  leftward  bank  o'erflows. 


THE   ODES   OF   HORACE  [BOOK  I 


Our  youth  the  civil  clash  shall  hear, 
(Alas,  through  crimes  of  sires  too  few) 

For  Rome  now  sharpens  sword  and  spear 
More  meet  for  Persian  hordes  to  rue. 

Which  god  shall  trembling  Rome  entreat 
A  falling  empire's  weight  to  bear  ? 

How  vestals  find  petition  meet 
For  ears,  less  open  now  to  prayer? 

To  whom  shall  Jove  the  charge  assign 
Our  crimes  to  cancel?      Come  at  last 

With  clouds,  Apollo,   Seer  Divine, 
About  thy  shining  shoulders  cast. 

Or,  please  it  thee,  fair  Venus,  come 

To  laugh  with  Sport  and  Cupid  taught, 

Or  Mars,  our  founder,  thou  ;    if  Rome 
And  thine  own  seed  be  worth  a  thought. 

Enough  oi  thine  insatiate  swoop, 
Thy  game  of  shout,  and  burnished  helm, 

And  the  fell  rush  of  Marsian  troop 
Their  bleeding  foes  to  overwhelm. 

Or,  gentle  Maia's  winged  son, 
If    with  an  altered  form  content, 

Deign  to  be  Caesar's  champion, 
Shrined  in  his  earthly  tenement. 


ODE  III]  THE   ODES   OF   HORACE 


Long  be  thy  joyous  reign  in  Rome, 
Late  the  return  to  heaven  be  won, 

Nor  earlier  take  thy  passage  home 
Our  manners,  foul  with  sin,  to  shun 

As  father  and  as  prince  abide, 

And  here  thy  lofty  triumphs  gain, 

Nor  let  the  Mede  unpunished  ride 

While  Caesar  lives,  and  lives  to  reign. 


ODE   III 

THE   SHIP  OF   VIRGIL 

SO  may  the  Queen  of  Cyprian  heights, 
So  Helen's  brethren,  starry  lights, 
So  speed  thy  course  the  Lord  of  wind, 
And  all,  save  Zephyr,  fastly  bind: 

O  Ship,  thou  hast  a  debt  to  pay, 
Our  Virgil :   hold  him  well  I  pray, 
Unharmed  to  Attic  bounds  consign, 
And  save  that  life,  the  half  of  mine. 

(T  was  armed  with  oak  and  triple  brass, 
His  breast,  who  first  made  bold  to  pass 
In  fragile  bark  the  truculent  seas 
Nor  feared  the  boding  Hyades, 


THE   ODES   OF   HORACE  [BOOK  I 

Nor  south-west  wind  at  war  with  north, 
Nor  headlong  Notus  blustering  forth, 
Like  whom  no  tyrant  Adria  sways 
The  tempest  to  allay  or  raise. 

All  forms  of  death  will  he  defy 
Who  views  rude  waves  with  tearless  eye, 
Sea-monsters,  and  thy  deadly  sweep, 
Thou  sheer  Acroceraunian  steep. 

Of  purpose  Heaven  by  severing  main 
Divided  lands ;    but  all  in  vain 
If  rebel  ships,  in  Heaven's  despite, 
May  leap  the  waves,  and  lands  unite. 

For  men,  o'erbold  to  do  and  dare, 
Right  down  the  heavenly  barriers  tear, 
And  Japhet's  race,  portentous  birth, 
By  guilty  theft  bring  fire  to  earth. 

That  crime  achieved,  a  strange  array 
Of  Fevers,  and  unknown  Decay, 
Swept  down  on  man,  and  Death  perforce 
Made  speedier  his  appointed  course. 

The  might  of  Hercules  destroyed 
Hell's  bars,  and  in  the  airy  void 
With  lawless  wings,  not  given  to  man, 
The  flight  of  Daedalus  began. 


ODE  IV]  THE   ODES   OF   HORACE 


In  nought,  we  think,  can  mortals  fail : 
We  seek,  like  fools,  high  heaven  to  scale ; 
With  crime  so  rife,  Jove  cannot  lay 
The  bolts,  that  speak  his  wrath,  away. 


ODE   IV 

TO   THE   RICH   SEXTIUS 

HARD  winter  breaks,  O  happy  turn 
to  Zephyr  and  to  Spring ! 
Dry  keels  the  rollers  seaward  bring ; 
For  neither  flocks  now  keep  the  stall, 

nor  fire  the  ploughman  heeds ; 
Nor  whiten  with  hoar  frost  the  meads. 
Now  Venus  from  Cythera  hies, 

the  moonlit  dance  to  twine ; 
The  Graces  and  the  Nymphs  combine 
With  rhythmic  feet  the  ground  to  smite, 

while  Vulcan  sweats  to  raise 
Huge  Cyclop  forges  to  a  blaze. 
With  flowers,  from  soil  hard  bound  no  more, 

to  gird  the  gleaming  brow 
'T  is  meet,  or  with  green  myrtle  now ; 
For  offering  now  to  Faunus  bring, 

beneath  the  shadowed  grove, 
Or  lamb,  or  kid,  if  kid  he  love. 
O  Sextius,  Fortune's  favourite, 

the  kingly  tower  alike 
And  pauper's  hut  pale  Death  will  strike. 


8  THE   ODES   OF   HORACE  [BOOK  I 

Life's  narrow  space  forbids  to  frame 

large  hopes.     Thee  too  the  night 
Will  vex,  thee  many  a  fabled  sprite, 
Thee  Pluto's  cribbing  cell:   and  thou, 

arriving  there  at  last, 
No  more  shalt  rule  the  feast,  by  cast 
Of  dice,  no  more  wilt  gaze  on  forms 
whose  tender  beauties  move 
At  once  to  wonder  and  to  love '. 

ODE  V 

TO    PYRRHA' 

WHAT  scented  stripling,  Pyrrha,  woos  thee  now, 
In  pleasant  grotto,  all  with  roses  fair  ? 
For  whom  those  auburn  tresses  bindest  thou 
With  simple  care? 

Full  oft  shall  he  thine  altered  faith  bewail, 

His  altered  gods :    and  his  unwonted  gaze 
Shall  watch  the  waters  darkening  to  the  gale 
In  wild  amaze  : 

Who  now  believing  gloats  on  golden  charms  ; 
Who  hopes  thee  ever  void,  and  ever  kind  ; 
Xor  knows  thy  changeful  heart,  nor  the  alarms 
Of  changeful  wind. 

1  The  closing  words  are  a  paraphrase  in  mitigation.  Elsewhere 
I  have  made  use  of  a  similar  disguise  when  it  appeared  to  be 
needful. 

'  First  published  in  1859. 


ODK  VI]  THE    ODES   OF    HORACE 


For  me,  let  Neptune's  temple-wall  declare 

How,  safe-escaped,  in  votive  offering, 
My  dripping  garments  own,  suspended  there, 
Him  Ocean-King. 


ODE   VI 

TO   AGRIPPA 

LET  Varius,  bird  of  Homer's  wing, 
Thy  might,  thy  feats,  Agrippa,  sing, 
Each  deed  achieved  by  Roman  hand, 
When  led  by  thee,  on  flood  or  land. 

Achilles  and  his  stubborn  mood, 
Or  Pelops  with  that  savage  brood, 
Or  dark  Ulysses  o'er  the  sea 
To  track,  is  not  for  such  as  me. 

Small  themes,  small  men.     My  blush,  the  Muse 
That  sways  the  lyre  of  peace,  refuse 
Thy  praise,  and  noble  Caesar's  fame, 
For  scant  of  worthy  gift,  to  maim. 

Diomed,  by  Pallas  taught  to  thrust 
At  gods,  or  Merion  black  with  dust 
Of  Troy,  or  Mars  in  coat  of  mail 
To  sing  aright  what  bards  avail '  ? 

1  In  this  stanza,  which  was  extremely  difficult  to  compress,  I 
abridge  Meriones  after  the  manner  of  Diomed,  and  use  both  dis- 
syllabically. 


10  THE   ODES   OF   HORACE  [BOOK  I 

No :  me  the  feast,  the  war  employs 

Of  maids  (their  nails  well  dipt)  with  boys ; 

Me  fancy-free  ;  or,  something  warm, 

My  playful  use  does  no  one  harm. 

ODE   VII 

TO     PLANCUS 

FAMED  Rhodes,  Apollo's  Delphi,  Mitylene, 
Or  Corinth's  walls,  two  seas  between, 
Thessalian  Tempe,  Thebes  through  Bacchus  known, 

And  Ephesus,  I  let  alone. 
In  builded  strains  some  only  hymn  thy  town, 

Chaste  Pallas ;   and  the  olive  crown 
Adorns  their  temples,  cropped  on  every  hand. 

For  Juno's  praise  a  goodly  band 
Horse-nursing  Argos,  rich  Mycenae,  name. 

Me  neither  stubborn  Sparta's  fame 
Nor  yet  Larissa's  teeming  plain  so  moves 

As  Anio's  rush,  Tiburtine  groves, 
Those  orchards,  that  the  nimble  runnels  lave 

Beside  Albunea's  echoing  cave. 
Oft  Notus  whitens  all  the  murky  sky 

And  rain  descends  not  from  on  high. 
So  in  thy  Tibur's  deeper  shade,  or  where 

The  camps  with  blazing  signals  glare, 
Plancus,  be  wise ;   life's  woes  and  toils  decline, 

Go,  drown  them  all  in  mellow  wine. 
From  sire  and  Salamis  when  Teucer  fled 

A  wreath  of  poplar  leaves  't  is  said, 


ODE  VIII]  THE   ODES   OF   HORACE  1 1 

Around  his  brow  that  reeks  with  wine  he  bends, 

And  thus  exhorts  his  drooping  friends: 
'  Let  sires  be  sires  :  if  Fortune  kindly  show, 

O  friends  and  partners,  on  we  go. 
Who  shall  despair,  where  Teucer  rules  and  guides? 

For  sure  Apollo's  word  provides 
On  shores  untried  a  twin  to  Salamis. 

My  comrades  bold,  to  worse  than  this 
Inured,  to-morrow  brave  the  vasty  brine, 

But  drown  to-day  your  cares  in  wine.' 

ODE   VIII 

TO   LYDIA 

BY  all  the  gods  I  charge  thee,  Lydia,  say 
Wherefore  so  fast  through  loving  slay 
Thy  Sybaris?     Patient  once  of  dust  and  sun 

The  open  field  now  see  him  shun. 
A  trooper,  with  his  peers  he  doth  not  ride, 

His  Gallic  steed  he  doth  not  guide 
With  dogtooth  bit.     Why  dreads  he  now  to  brave, 

Unclad,  the  Tiber's  golden  wave? 
Why  worse  than  viper's  gore  the  oil  eschews  ? 

Why  bear  his  arms  no  livid  bruise 
Of  curling l  ?      He,  once  so  famed,  full  often,  past 

The  mark  his  quoit  or  dart  to  cast, 

1  There  is  not  to  my  knowledge  any  English  word  which  describes 
the  game  here  intended  by  Horace.  But  it  exactly  corresponds 
with  the  Scotch  game  of  curling ;  which,  however,  is  played  upon 
the  ice. 


I  2  THE    ODES   OF    HORACE  [BOOK  I 

Sculks,  as  in  Troy's  sad  close,  so  legends  run, 

The  seaborn  Thetis  hid  her  son, 
Lest  manhood's  garb  should  urge  him  forth,  to  slay 

The  Lycian  bands,  before  his  day. 

ODE   IX 

TO   THALIARCHUS 

BEHOLD  Soracte,  white  with  snow, 
Its  laden  woods  are  bending  low, 
Keen  frost  arrests  the  river's  flow ; 
Melt,  Thaliarchus,  melt  the  cold. 

Heap  freely  logs  upon  the  fire. 
Nay,  more  and  better  I  desire, 
And  from  that  Sabine  jar  require 

Its  wine,  that  reckons  four  years  old. 

The  rest  is  Heav'n's :    which  can  at  will 
Bid  all  the  battling  winds  be  still 
Upon  the  seething  main  ;   until 

Nor  veteran  ash  nor  cypress  quake. 

Pry  not,  the  morrow's  chance  to  learn  : 
Set  down  to  gain  whatever  turn 
The  wheel  may  take.     Youth  must  not  spurn 
Sweet  loves,  nor  yet  the  dance  forsake, 

While  grudging  Age  thy  prime  shall  spare. 
The  Plain,  the  Squares,  be  now  thy  care, 
And  lounges,  dear  at  nightfall,  where 
By  concert  love  may  whisper  '  Hist ! ' 


ODE  X]  THE   ODES   OF   HORACE  13 


From  inner  nook  a  winsome  smile 
Betrays  the  girl  that  sculks  the  while, 
And  keepsakes,  deftly  filched  by  guile 
From  yielding  finger,  or  from  wrist. 

ODE   X 

TO     MERCURY 

GRANDSON  of  Atlas,  Mercury,  't  was  thine, 
The  new-born  man's  rude  manners  to  refine, 
By  speech  to  school  the  mind,  by  gracious  game 
To  shape  the  frame. 

Envoy  of  gods  and  mighty  Jove  their  sire, 
I  sing  thy  praise,  thou  parent  of  the  lyre ; 
A  pilferer  too,  whene'er  it  pleased  thy  will, 
With  merry  skill. 

Thee  yet  a  child  Apollo  threatened  sore 
Unless  thou  wouldst  th'  ill-gotten  herd  restore : 
But  when  he  found  his  quiver  too  was  gone, 
He  smiled  anon. 

So  Priam,  carrying  forth    the  Trojan  wealth, 
The  proud  Atridae  and  their  camp  by  stealth 
Eluded,  and  their  watchfires  all  defied 
With  thee  for  guide. 

In  seats  of  bliss  thou  lodgest  pious  souls; 
Thy  wand  the  shadowy  herd  of  ghosts  controls, 
Thou  welcome  guest,  for  gods  to  Hades  given, 
And  gods  of  heaven. 


14  THE   ODES  OF   HORACE  [BOOK  I 

ODE  XI 

TO   LEUCONOE 

OH  ask  thou  not,  't  is  sin  to  know, 
what  time  to  me,  to  thee 
The  gods  allot:   Chaldean  tricks 

eschew,  Leuconoe. 
How  better  far  to  face  our  fate ; 

be  other  winters  yet 
Ordained  for  us  by  Jove,  or  this 

the  last,  now  sternly  set 
To  weary  out  by  fronting  rocks 

the  angry  Tuscan  main. 
True  wisdom  learn.     Decant  the  wine. 

Far-reaching  schemes  restrain. 
Our  span  is  brief.     The  niggard  hour, 

in  chatting,  ebbs  away ; 
Trust  nothing  for  to-morrow's  sun: 

make  harvest  of  to-day. 

ODE  XII 

TO   AUGUSTUS 

WHAT  chief,  what  hero,  wilt  thou  use 
Shrill  pipe  or  lyre  to  chant,  O  muse  ? 
What  god?   what  name  shall  echoes  wake, 
What  answer  make? 


ODB  XII]  THE   ODES   OF   HORACE  1 5 

In  shady  tracts  of  Helicon, 

On  Pindus,  icy  Haemus  on, 

Where  Minstrel  Orpheus  by  his  skill 

Moved  woods  at  will. 

His  mother's  art  he  deftly  learned, 
Quick  winds  and  arrowy  rivers  turned, 
And  from  his  lyre  melodious  strokes 
Gave  ears  to  oaks. 

First  comes  the  Parent's  *  classic  praise, 
Who  seas,  and  earth,  and  seasons  sways, 
And  the  vast  All,  with  sovereign  ken 
O'er  gods  and  men. 

From  him  than  his  no  higher  worth, 
Nor  like,  nor  second,  issues  forth ; 
Yet  great  Minerva  nearest  mounts, 

And  honours  counts. 

Thou,  Liber,  bold  to  strike  the  blow ; 
Thou,  maid,  of  savage  beasts  the  foe : 
Thou,  Phoebus,  of  th'  unerring  dart, 
Shalt  bear  thy  part. 

Alcides  too;   and  Leda's  twain 
For  horse  and  fist  their  praise  shall  gain. 
Soon  as  those  silver  stars  have  shone 
On  sailors  lone, 

1  The  Parent's.    Here  only  Jupiter  is  described  in  Horace  by  this 
word  ;  which  I  have  thought  it  well  to  preserve. 


1 6  THE   ODES   OF    HORACE  [BOOK  I 


See,  trickling  from  the  crags,  the  spray  ; 
The  winds  are  hushed,  clouds  melt  away, 
And,  such  their  will,  the  billow's  crest 
Sinks  down  to  rest. 

And  then  ?     Shall  Romulus  be  first, 
Or  Numa's  peace,  or  Tarquin's  burst 
Of  pride  ;   shall  Cato  be  my  theme, 
In  death  supreme  ? 

The  Scauri,  Paulus,  of  his  life 
So  lavish  in  the  Punic  strife, 
Fabricius,  Regulus,  prolong 

My  grateful  song. 

The  ancestral  farm,  the  modest  Lar, 
Stern  thrift;  these  gave  us  lords  of  war, 
Camillus  and  our  Curius  bare, 

With  tangled  hair. 

In  fame  Marcellus  like  the  trees 
Grows,  noiseless :   and,  outshining  these, 
The  Caesar-star,  a  moon  at  nights 
'Mid  lesser  lights. 

To  thee,  Sire,  Guardian  of  mankind, 
The  charge  of  Caesar  is  consigned 
By  fate,  Saturnian  Jove  !   and  he 

Rules  next  to  thee. 


ODE  XIII]  THE   ODES   OF   HORACE  1 7 

He  drove  the  Parthian  threatening  Rome, 
With  crushing  triumph  to  his  home ; 
From  Indian,   Serian  war  released 

The  farthest  East. 

His  realm,  this  earth,  from  thee  he  takes ; 
Thy  weighty  car  Olympus  shakes, 
And  bolts  of  thine  reduce  to  dust 

The  groves  of  lust. 


ODE   XIII 

TO   LYDIA 

'AH!   Telephus,  his  arms  of  wax ! 
•**•     Ah,  Telephus,  his  neck  of  roses ! ' 
All  this  my  spirit,  Lydia,  racks ; 
My  swelling  bile  rebels,  opposes. 

Nor  mind  nor  colour  in  one  stay 

Continue  :    silent  tears  begin 
To  wet  my  cheeks ;    I  waste  away, 

Slow  fires  consume  me  from  within ; 

Galled,  if  in  wine's  too  boisterous  joy 
Thy  shoulders  white  are  rudely  hit, 

And  bruised  ;   or  if  the  madding  boy 

Those  lips  he  should  have  kissed  hath  bit. 


1 8  THE   ODES   OF   HORACE  [BOOK  I 


Hear  me:   he  cannot  constant  be, 
Who  coarsely  mars  the  honeyed  kiss, 

Which,  Venus  !    holds  by  thy  decree 
The  fifth  part  of  thy  nectar's  bliss. 

Thrice  blest,  aye  more,  are  they,  whose  love, 
Ne'er  sundered  by  the  curse  of  strife, 

Through  all  events  its  worth  can  prove, 
And  only  part  with  parting  life. 


ODE  XIV 

TO   THE   SHIP  OF   STATE 


o 


SHIP!   new  billows  sweep  thee  out 
Seaward.      What   wilt  thou?   hold  the   port, 

be  stout. 

Seest  not  ?  thy  mast 
How  rent  by  stiff  south-western  blast, 


Thy  side,  of  rowers  how  forlorn? 

Thine  hull,  with  groaning  yards,  with  rigging  torn, 

Can  ill  sustain 
The  fierce,  and  ever  fiercer  main; 

Thy  gods,  no  more  than  sails  entire, 

From  whom  yet  once  thy  need  might  aid  require 

O  Pontic  pine, 
The  first  of  woodland  stocks  is  thine, 


ODE  XV]  THE   ODES   OF   HORACE  19 

Yet  race  and  name  are  but  as  dust. 

Not  painted  sterns  give  storm-tost  seamen  trust, 

Unless  thou  dare 
To  be  the  sport  of  storms,  beware. 

Of  old  at  best  a  weary  weight, 

A  yearning  care  and  constant  strain  of  late, 

O  shun  the  seas 
That  gird  those  glittering  Cyclades. 


ODE   XV 

THE   FALL   OF   TROY 

WHEN  with  his  hostess  Helen  o'er  the  seas 
In  Idan  ships  the  faithless  shepherd  sailed, 
Nereus  confined  the  winged  winds,  in  ease 
Reluctant,  and  the  dreadful  doom  unveiled. 

'  Thou  lead'st  her  to  thy  home,  ill  bodes  beyond ! 

Whom  Greece  with  mighty  host  will  claim  again, 
Sworn  man  by  man  to  burst  thy  nuptial  bond 

And  hurl  to  ruin  Priam's  hoary  reign. 

'  What  sweat  for  men  and  horses  in  the  war ! 

Alack,  what  slaughter  for  the  Dardan  line ! 
Pallas  e'en  now  prepares  her  helm  and  car, 

Her  aegis  grasps,  and  stirs  her  wrath  divine. 


20  THE   ODES   OF   HORACE  [BOOK  1 

•  What,  art  thou  bold,  with  Venus  hovering  near  ? 

Comb  out  thy  locks,  and  in  umvarlike  strain 
Scan  thou  the  lays,  that  ladies  love  to  hear. 

Within  thy  chamber  walls  go  hide  in  vain 

'  From  point  of  Gnossian  dart,  from  spearman's  thrust, 
From  din  of  war,  from  Ajax  swift  as  light. 

Foul,  thine  adulterous  hair  shall  lie  in  dust. 
But  all  too  late.     See,  born  thy  race  to  smite, 

'  Ulysses ;    look  on  Nestor,  Pylian  king  ; 

See  Salaminian  Teucer,  Sthenelos, 
Adept  of  war,  and  keen  on  car  to  spring ; 

That  pair,  who  know  not  fear,  thy  path  shall  cross. 

'  Meriones  to  boot ;  him  shalt  thou  know, 

And  more  than  him  ;  with  passion  all  on  fire, 

And  rushing  far  and  near  to  find  thee,  lo ! 
The  child  of  Tydeus,  mightier  than  his  sire. 

'  And  thou !     As  in  the  glen  some  deer  that  spies 
The  wolf  descending  from  a  mountain  spur, 

Away,  his  food  forgot,  loud  baying  flies, 
So  thou  wilt  fly,  despite  thy  vows,  to  her ! 

'  Achilles  and  his  angered  warriors  may 
Hold  back  for  Ilion  its  predestined  hour ; 

But  the  fixed  tale  of  seasons  brings  the  day 
Achaian  flames  shall  Trojan  halls  devour.' 


OOK  XVI]  THE   ODES   OF   HORACE  2 1 


ODE    XVI 

A   PALINODE 

FAIRER  than  thy  mother  fair, 
Quash  at  will  my  scurril  song 
Burn  it,  on  thy  hearthstone  there ; 
Drown  it,  Adria's  waves  among. 

Pythian  priests  their  frenzy  lash ; 
Dindymene,  Bacchus,  call ; 
Corybantine  cymbals  clash  ; 
Moody  wrath  outdoes  them  all. 

Who  can  tame  it  ?    Raging  fire, 
Seas  that  shatter  ships  and  drown, 
Noric  sword,  nor  Jove  in  ire, 
Clad  with  thunder  sweeping  down  ? 

Once  Prometheus,  as  they  say, 
Fusing  this  and  that  began  ; 
Mixed  it  up  with  primal  clay, 
Lion's  might  with   spleen  of  man. 

Mark,  by  wrath  Thyestes  falls  : 
Wrath,  the  cause  of  when  and  how 
Towering  cities  sank,  whose  walls 
Yielded  to  the  foeman's  plough. 


22  THE   ODES   OF   HORACE  [BOOK  I 


Curb  thyself.     In  olden  time 
Fever  heat  within  me  burned, 
Tempted,  and  my  youthful  prime 
To  those  hot  iambics  turned. 

Gentle  ways  bewitch  me  now, 
Nothing  charms  that  stirs  to  strife ; 
Libels  all  I  disavow  ; 
Prithee  love  me,  give  me  life. 


ODE     XVII 

TO   TYNDARIS 

LYCAEUS  for  Lucretilis 
Oft  nimble  Faunus  changing  gives; 
My  flock  of  goats,  't  is  due  to  this, 
From  heat  and  rainfall  guarded  lives. 

The  shegoat  flies  her  reeking  mate 
For  arbutus,  far  off  from  sight, 

Or  devious  thyme:  nor  fears  her  fate 
From  wolves  of  Mars,  nor  adder's  bite. 

What  time  thy  pipe  hath  told  its  tale 
To  the  smooth  cliffs  that  beetle  round, 

And  all  Ustica's  upland  vale, 

O  Tyndaris,  gives  back  the  sound. 


ODB  XVIII]  THE   ODES   OF   HORACE  23 

The  gods  are  with  me ;   they  approve 

My  muse,  my  prayers ;  come,  see  these  fields, 

And  learn  what  blessings,  through  their  love, 
The  brimming  horn  of  plenty  yields. 

Come  hither,  tune  the  Teian  string, 

In  folded  vale  the  dog-star  shun, 
Penelope  and  Circe  sing 

Both  sick  at  heart,  and  sick  for  one. 

Quaff  too  my  harmless  Lesbian  wine 
Beneath  the  shade ;   no  Bacchus  here 

Shall  fight  with  Mars,  no  evil  sign 
From  saucy  Cyrus  need'st  thou  fear; 

Suspecting,  he  rude  hands  and  strong 
Might  lay  on  thy  frail  form,  and  tear 

Thy  garment  innocent  of  wrong, 
Or  coronal  that  binds  thy  hair. 


ODE   XVIII 

TO   QUINTILIUS  VARUS 

T3ESIDE  the  walls  Catillus  built, 
•D      On  Tibur's  soft  incline, 
No  other  tree,  O  Varus,  rear 

Before  the  sacred  vine : 
So  may'st  thou  'scape  corroding  care, 
So  leave  ('tis  Heaven's  design) 
All  ills  to  those  that  shun  the  wine. 


24  THE   ODES   OF   HORACE  [BOOK  i 

Who  croaks  of  want,  or  warfare's  toils, 

111  theme  beside  the  wine? 
Thy  gift,  Sire  Bacchus,  better  far, 

Or,  winsome  Venus,  thine. 
Yet,  lest  we  overleap  the  bounds 

Of  modest  use  to  warn, 
The  Centaurs  mark,  and  Lapithae, 

Their  brawl  of  revel  born. 
Nor  was  the  hand  of  Evius  light 

On  that  Sithonian  crew, 
What  time  the  shadowy  bounds  of  right 

And  wrong  they  lost  from  view, 

Their  greed  and  passion  to  pursue. 

Not  I,  frank-hearted  Bassareus, 

Will  thy  repose  invade, 
Nor  drag  to  sunlight  what  thou  hid'st 

With  twinkling  leafy  shade. 
Be  mute  then,  Berecynthian  horn: 

Lie,  maddening  drums,  at  rest 
With  all  your  train  :   purblind  Conceit, 

Brag,  tossing  high  its  crest, 
Prouder  than  pride ;    and  leaking  Faith, 

That  lets  the  secret  pass, 

More  limpid  than  a  thing  of  glass. 


ODE  XX]  THE   ODES   OF   HORACE  25 

ODE    XIX 

ON  GLYCERA 

'TT^HE  tyrant  mother  of  the  Cupids  twain, 
A     The  son  of  Theban  Semele, 
And  random  senses,  all  agree 

To  snare  my  soul  in  quitted  loves  again ; 
I  burn  for  Glycera,  gleaming  white, 
Than  Parian  marble  purer  bright : 
Her  froward  charm  inflames  me  too, 
And  face,  ah  !  perilous  to  view. 

In  me,  not  Cyprus  now,  all  Venus  lies : 
Of  aught  but  her  I  may  not  sing, 
May  not  for  Scythian  touch  the  string, 

Or  Parthian,  boldest  when  his  charger  flies. — 
Bring  me  fresh  turf,  then,  servants  mine, 
Bring  boughs,  bring  bowl  of  last  year's  wine, 
And  frankincense ;    nor  all  in  vain ; 
She  will  relent,  the  Victim  slain. 

ODE   XX 

TO   MAECENAS 

f~"*HEAP  Sabine  wine,  in  modest  cup, 
^-^  Come,  drink  with  me.     I  sealed  it  up 
When  gathered  Rome  would  have  thee  hear 
Its  rapturous  cheer. 


26  THE   ODES   OF   HORACE  [BOOK  l 


Dear  Knight  Maecenas,  let  the  banks 
Of  thine  own  stream  repeat  those  thanks, 
And  echoing  Vatican  again 

Renew  the  strain. 

Calenian  wines  are  pressed  for  thee 
And  Caecuban ;   for  such  as  me, 
Falernum,  and  the  Formian  hill 
No  beakers  fill. 


ODE    XXI 

THE   DELIAN   GODS 

YE  tender  maids,  of  Dian  tell, 
Ye  youths  commend  the  Cynthian  well, 
And  both  Latona,  who  from  Jove 
Hath  all  the  strength  of  all  his  love. 

Tell  of  her  joy  in  streams  and  groves, 
How  on  cool  Algidus  she  loves 
The  sombre  wood ;    how  pleased  hath  seen 
Dark  Erymanthus,  Cragus  green. 

Nor  less,  ye  youths,  of  Tempe's  worth, 
Delos,  that  gave  Apollo  birth, 
The  quiver  to  his  shoulder  brought, 
And  lyre  his  brother  Hermes  wrought. 


ODE  XXII]  THE   ODES   OF   HORACE  2  7 

Famine,  and  plague,  and  tearful  war, 
Moved  by  your  prayer,  from  Rome  afar 
Let  him,  our  Caesar  still  alive, 
On  Persians  and  on  Britons  drive. 


ODE   XXII 

IN   PRAISE   OF   LALAGE 

IF  whole  in  life,  and  free  from  sin, 
Man  needs  no  Moorish  bow,  nor  dart, 
Nor  quiver,  carrying  death  within 
By  poison's  art. 

Though  frowning  Caucasus  he  treads, 
And  boiling  Syrtes  hath  defied, 
Been,  Fuscus,  where  Hydaspes  spreads 
His  mythic  tide. 

In  Sabine  woods,  and  fancy-free, 

A  wolf  observed  my  wandering  tread ; 

Unarmed,  I  sang  of  Lalage ; 

He  saw,  and  fled. 

Such  portent  in  the  oaken  grove, 
Hath  martial  Daunia  never  known ; 
Nor  Juba's  land,  where  lions  rove 
The  thirsty  zone. 


28  THE   ODES   OF   HORACE  [BOOK  l 


Place  me,  where  desert  wastes  forbid 
One  tree  to  breathe  the  summer  wind, 
Where  fogs  the  land  and  sea  have  hid, 
With  Jove  unkind ; 

Or,  where  the  sun  so  near  would  be, 
That  none  to  build  or  dwell  may  dare ; 
Thy  voice,  thy  smile,  my  Lalage, 

I'll  love  them  there. 


ODE   XXIII 

TO   CHLOE 

flies  me,  as  young  deer 
Track  the  dam  along  the  hill, 
Not  without  an  idle  fear 

Lest  the  wood,  the  wind,  may  kill. 

Chloe !   if  the  spring  be  born, 
If  its  breeze  just  move  the  trees, 

If  green  lizards  stir  the  thorn, 

Tremble,  heart,  and  tremble,  knees. 

No  Gaetulian  lion  I, 

I  no  tigress  at  thy  back: 
Ripe  for  mates,  no  more  be  shy, 

Tread  no  more  thy  mother's  track. 


ODE  XXIV]  THE   ODES   OF   HORACE  29 

ODE    XXIV 

TO   VIRGIL 

WHAT  bounds  can  Shame,  can  Moderation,  set, 
For  one  so  dear,  to  yearning  and  regret  ? 
Lead  thou  the  dirge,  for  Jove,  Melpomene, 
Gave  lyre  and  song  to  thee. 

Shall  then  unending  sleep  Quintilius  bind  ? 
O  bashful  Shame,  O  Truth's  transparent  mind, 
Pure  Faith  and  Justice,  twinborn  sisters  dear, 
Where  shall  ye  find  his  peer? 

What  cause  he  left  the  good  for  sorrowing  pain ! 
What  cause  to  thee,  my  Virgil !    who,  in  vain 
Devout,  hast  sought  him  from  the  gods  of  heaven, 
But  he  was  lent,  not  given. 

If  sweetlier  than  Threi'cian  Orpheus  thou 
Could'st  touch  the  chord  that  made  the  forests  bow, 
The  blood  returns  not  to  the  senseless  clod, 
For  Mercury's  stern  rod, 

Inexorable  guard  of  Fate's  command, 
Hath  fast  conjoined  him  to  the  spectral  band. 
Alack  !     But  what  the  iron  laws  impose 
By  patience  lighter  grows. 


30  THE   ODES   OF   HORACE  [BOOK  I 

ODE    XXV 

TO   LYDIA 

TIJ*ORWARD  youths  thy  fastened  windows 
•*•        Rap  not  as  they  rapped  of  yore, 
Force  not  vigils ;  and  the  threshold 
Seems  to  hug  the  door. 

Once  it  creaked  on  easy  hinges, 

Less  and  little  now  ; 
Yet  I  pine  through  endless  nights,  and, 

Lydia,  sleepest  thou  ? 

Thou,  when  lone  and  old,  wilt  suffer 

Scorn  from  jesting  rakes ; 
Aye,  'twixt  moons,  when  Boreas  fiercest 

From  his  mountains  breaks. 

Then  shalt  thou  with  flagrant  passion 

Like  the  beasts  be   torn, 
And  with  fire  of  cankered  entrails 

Thou  shalt  grieve,  forlorn, 

That  our  youth  must  have  their  ivy 

And  their  myrtle  young, 
All  the  withered  leaves  to  Hebrus 

Icy  Hebrus,  flung. 


ODE  XXVII]  THE   ODES   OF   HORACE  31 

ODE  XXVI 

TO   THE   MUSES 

'"T'^HE  Muses'  friend,  I  cast  aside 

-*-  To  wanton  winds  and  Cretic  tide 
My  tears  and  woes ;  't  is  nought  to  me 
Who  lords  it  o'er  the  icy  sea 

Or  wherefore  Tiridates  quakes. 
But,  Muse  of  infant  springs,  who  makes 
The  sun-fed  flowers  for  Lamia  twine? 
Who  weaves  the  wreath  for  Lamia  mine? 

My  strains  are  nought,  apart  from  thee, 
Pimplea!     With  thy  sisters,  see 
That  those  fresh  Lesbian  strings  resound, 
And  Lamia's  name  with  praise  be  crowned. 

ODE    XXVII 

A   BANQUET 

THE  goblets,  born  for  ends  of  joy, 
Let  Thracians  for  their  frays  employ : 
We  spurn  the  savage  use ;   and  more, 
Our  Bacchus  ne'er  shall  reek  with   gore. 

With  wine  and  lights  would  rudely  jar 
The  flash  of  Median  scimitar. 
Have  done,  I  pray,  with  impious  noise, 
And  on  your  elbows  rest,  my  boys ! 


32  THE   ODES  OF   HORACE  [BOOK  I 

This  strong  Falernian  must  I  drink  ? 
What  does  Megilla's  brother  think? 
He,  Fortune's  child  ;   what  was  his  wound, 
What  arrow  bore  him  to  the  ground? 

Ha  !   change  your  mind  ?     No  other  price 
I  take.     Whatever  flame  's  astir, 
Thy  flame  has  no  debasing  vice ; 
If  erring,  yet  you  nobly  err, 

Nor  need  to  blush.     Come,  be  not  coy, 
Trust  me  for  silence.     Ah !   poor  boy, 
Ah  !   worthy  of  a  nobler  toil, 
What  whirlpool  did  around  thee  boil. 

Thessalian  poisons  who  can  cure? 
God,  witch,  or  wizard,  none  is  sure : 
From  this  Chimera,  shaped  in  three, 
Scarce  Pegasus  could  bring  you  free. 


ODE   XXVIII 

ARCHYTAS 

FOR  sea  and  land,  and  countless  sand, 
Archytas,  thou  hadst  drawn  the  lines 
Of  earth  a  crust  thy  mite  of  dust 
Now  by  the  Matine  shore  confines. 


ODE  XXVIII]  THE    ODES   OF    HORACE  33 

It  boots  thee  nought,  what  thou  hast  wrought 
Through  vast  supernal  realms  to  fly, 

And  traverse  all  this  earthly  ball 
In  spirit :    for  thou  hadst  to  die. 

From  Fate's  great  odds,  the  guest  of  gods 
And  sire  of  Pelops  could  not  hide ; 

Tithonus  fair  enthroned  in  air, 
And  Minos,  Jove's  adviser,  died. 

From  Trojan  field  his  dinted  shield 

Euphorbus  may  for  witness  call, 
Yet  yields  his  breath,  aye  twice,  to  death, 

His  nerves,  his  flesh  ;    though  not  his  all. 

Nor  mean,  in  sooth,  for  quest  of  truth 

And  nature  thou  esteemedst  him. 
One  path  we  tread,  to  join  the  dead, 

And  pass  within  the  regions  dim. 

The  Furies  grant  in  war  no  scant ; 

Devouring  seas  o'er  sailors  roll ; 
Young  funerals  hold  their  place  with  old  ; 

Proserpine  spares  no  breathing  soul. 

Me  too,  as  wet  Orion  set, 

The  tempest  drowned  on  Adria's  strand. 
My  limbs,  my  head  unburied, 

Begrudge  them  not  of  shifting  sand 


34  THE   ODES   OF   HORACE  [BOOK  I 

Some  handfuls,  O  thou  shipman.  So 
When  Eurus  shatters  at  his  worst 

Venusian  woods,  yet  thou,  thy  goods 
Shall  live,  thy  profit  stand  the  first; 

All  saved  with  thee,  by  Jove's  decree, 
And  Neptune's,  who  Tarentum  guards. 

O  fail  not !    lest  thy  sons,  distressed 

By  vengeance  which  such  crime  rewards, 

In  coming  day  the  forfeit  pay ; 

Perchance  thyself  the  lot  shall  draw, 
The  debt  of  right  thy  life  may  blight 

To  vindicate  the  lofty  law. 

Be  sure  my  word  of  prayer  is  heard : 
No  offering  could  thy  guilt  atone. 

And  yet  I  ask  no  irksome  task  ; 

Thrice  strew  the  dust;   and  then  begone. 


ODE   XXIX 

TO   ICCIUS 

A   RABIAN  gold  now  suits  thy  mood, 
•**•     Friend  Iccius.     Thou  wilt  freely  bleed 
Sabaean  kings,  not  yet  subdued, 

And  bind  in  chains  that  dreadful  Mede. 


ODB  XXX]  THE    ODES   OF    HORACE  35 

What  virgin,  with  her  lover  killed, 

Wilt  have  for  slave  ?     What  perfumed  boy, 

His  father's  bow  once  deftly  skilled 
And  Seric  arrows  to  employ  ? 

And  surely  none  will  now  deny 

That  downward  streams  may  upward  glide 
Upon  the  mountains ;    or  defy 

Old  Tiber  to  reverse  his  tide ; 

When  thou,  how  changed !   for  mailed  coat, 
Surrendering  all  thy  gathered  store, 

Wilt  give  the  books  Panaetius  wrote 
And  rolls  of  Academic  lore. 


ODE   XXX 

TO   VENUS 

QUIT  Paphos ;    Cnidos,  Cyprus  quit, 
O  Venus !    Glycera  calls  thee,  come ; 
The  incense  fire  is  duly  lit, 

And  fair  her  home. 

With  thee,  loose-girdled  Graces  come 

And  Nymphs,  and  Cupid  glowing  warm, 
And  Mercury,  and  Youth,  to  whom 
Thou  lend'st  his  charm. 


36  THE   ODES   OF   HORACE  [BOOK  I 


ODE    XXXI 

PHILOSOPHY   OF   LIFE 

WHY  to  Apollo's  shrine  repair 
New  hallowed?     Why  present  with  prayer 
Libation  ?     Not  those  crops  to  gain, 
Which  fill  Sardinia's  teeming  plain, 

Herds  from  Calabria's  sunny  fields, 
Nor  ivory  that  India  yields, 
Nor  gold,  nor  tracts  where  Liris  glides 
So  noiseless  down  its  drowsy  sides. 

Blest  owners  of  Calenian  vines, 
Crop  them  ;    ye  merchants,  drain  the  wines, 
That  cargoes  brought  from  Syria  buy, 
In  cups  of  gold.     For  ye,  who  try 

The  broad  Atlantic  thrice  a  year 
And  never  drown,  must  sure  be  dear 
To  gods  in  heaven.     Me — small  my  need — 
Light  mallows,  olives,  chicory,  feed. 

Give  me  then  health,  Apollo  ;   give 
Sound  mind  ;    on  gotten  goods  to  live 
Contented ;   and  let  song  engage 
An  honoured,  not  a  base,  old  age. 


ODE  XXXII]  THE   ODES   OF   HORACE  37 


ODE   XXXII 

HIS   LYRE 

THEY  call  for  thee.     In  sport,  in  shade, 
Thou,  O  my  Lyre,  some  strains  hast  played, 
Which  yet  may  live.     But  now,  inspire 
A  patriot  fire. 

A  Lesbian  tuned  thee  first  of  all, 
Armed,  but  in  war's  brief  interval, 
Or  when  his  wave-tossed  ship  might  reach 
The  dripping  beach, 

Of  Venus,  and  her  Boy  hard  by, 
Of  Lycus,  dark  of  hair  and  eye, 
Of  Bacchus,  and  the  Muses,  he 

Would  minstrel  be. 

By  Jove  in  banquet  loved  right  well, 

Apollo's  crown,  beguiling  Shell, 

I  pray  thee,  let  my  fond  l  all  hail ! ' 

And  prayer  prevail. 


38  THE   ODES   OF   HORACE  [BOOK  I 


ODE  XXXIII 

TO   ALBIUS   TIBULLUS 

ALBIUS!   for  Glycera,  the  pitiless, 
Grieve  not  too  much  :  nor  worsen  thy  distress 
With  sickly  verse,  if  some  young  rival  beat  thee, 
And  broken  promise  cheat  thee. 

Low-browed  Lycoris  burns  for  Cyrus,  he 
Bends  wholly  to  the  icy  Pholoe ; 
But  sooner  wolves  th'  Apulian  goats  will  wed, 
Than  she  th'  adulterous  bed 

Will  stoop  to  touch.     So  Venus  doth  incline 
Discordant  minds  and  bodies  to  combine, 
And  drives  the  twain  beneath  a  brazen  yoke, 
'T  is  her  own  savage  joke. 

Me,  when  a  worthier  passion  sought  to  gain  me, 
In  willing  bonds  did  Myrtale  enchain  me, 
Slave-born,  and  rough,  as  Adria's  waves  are  rough 
Round  some  Calabrian  bluff. 


ODK  XXXIV]  THE   ODES   OF   HORACE  39 


ODE   XXXIV 

HIS  RELIGION 

I   RARE  and  stingy  worshipper 
>      In  silly  sapience  while  I  err, 
Now  face  about,  my  steps  retrace, 
And  paths  too  long  forgotten  pace. 

For  Jove,  whose  common  use  enshrouds 
His  lightning  fire  in  folded  clouds, 
Once  now  his  thunder-steeds  hath  driven 
And  lightning-car  through  cloudless  heaven. 

Then  wayward  streams,  and  solid  ground, 
Then  Atlas  from  his  farthest  bound, 
Shake  ;   aye  and  Styx  the  tale  can  tell, 
And  lowest  depths  of  hateful  hell. 

God  can  reverse  the  high  and  low, 
Can  greatest  lessen,  darkest  show, 
And  Fortune's  hissing  swoop  may  veer, 
Departing  thence,  alighting  here. 


40  THE   ODES   OF   HORACE  [BOOK  i 


ODE   XXXV 

TO   FORTUNA 

ODDESS,  whose  love  is  Antium's  crown, 

So  apt  in  lifting  up  to  bliss 
From  low  degree,  or  shattering  down 
Triumphal  pomp  to  death's  abyss  ; 

The  pauper  hind  with  ceaseless  zeal 
Implores  thee  :    and,  since  floods  obey, 

Whoever  with  Bithynian  keel 
Carpathian  billows  cuts  away. 

Thee  vagrant  Scyth,  and  Dacian  rude 

Dread,  as  they  dread  high  Rome's  behest ; 

Thee  outland  dames  of  royal  blood, 
Thee  tyrants  clad  in  purple  vest. 

Our  pillar  stands.     By  no  ill  stroke 
O'erthrow  it:    lest  the  people's  rush 

Should  rouse  to  arms,  and  so  the  folk 
In  passion  should  the  Empire  crush. 

Necessity  before  thee  stalks, 

And  holds  within  her  iron  grip 
Hot  lead  and  wedges,  nails  like  baulks, 

And  clamps  no  human  hand  can  rip. 


ODE  XXXV]  THE    ODES   OF    HORACE  41 

Hope,  and  white-vested  Faith,  ah  rare ! 

Would  court  thee,  nor  their  zeal  abate 
If,  altering  garb,  and  shifting  care, 

Thou  quit  the  mansions  of  the  great. 

The  fickle  herd,  the  perjured  punk, 
Fall  off.     Such  friends  dissolve  in  air, 

When  wine-casks  to  the  dregs  are  drunk : 
Too  false  an  equal  yoke  to  bear. 

To  farthest  Britain  guard  the  way 

Of  Caesar :  smite  the  East  with  dread, 

Before  our  young  and  fresh  array, 
E'en  to  the  ruby  ocean's  bed. 

Woe  for  our  scars ;   our  brethren  slain ! 

We,  stubborn  crew,  no  law  revere ; 
All  shapes  of  crime  our  record  stain. 

When  did  our  youth  through  holy  fear 

Withhold  its  hand  ?     What  ill  eschew, 
What  altar  spare  ?     O  would  that  we 

Could  flesh  good  swords  from  anvil  new 
On  Arabs  and  Massagetae. 


42  THE   ODES   OF   HORACE  [BOOK  I 

ODE   XXXVI 

FOR  NUMIDA'S  RETURN 

FOR  Numida  are  incense,  victim,  song, 
All  to  the  good  gods  due, 
Since,  from  Hispania's  farthest  all  along, 
They  were  his  guardians  true. 

To  many  a  friend  he  brings  his  dear  salute, 

To  thee  among  the  best ; 
For  twin  coeval  boyhoods  ye  compute, 

Coeval  manhood's  vest. 

Kind  Lamia!     Prompt  thy  liberal  jar  produce. 
•*  Denote  with  Cretan  white 
This  happy  day,  nor  spurn  the  Salian  use, 
The  twinkling  foot's  delight. 

Drink  like  a  Thracian,  Damalis !   but  yet 

Bassus  will  not  be  beat: 
Bring  shortlived  lilies,  longlived  parsley  get, 

And  roses  for  the  treat. 

All  will  make  melting  eyes  on  Damalis  : 

But  none  her  hand  can  grasp ; 
She  keeps  herself  for  her  new  lover's  bliss, 

More  fond  than  ivy's  clasp1. 

1  This  stanza  is  purposely  softened. 


ODB  XXXVII]          THE   ODES   OF   HORACE  43 

ODE    XXXVII 

THE   DEATH   OF   CLEOPATRA 

TIS  time  we  drink,  'tis  time  we  dance; 
Ye  Salians,  up !   your  task  advance, 
Adorn  the  couch  where  gods  recline : 
'T  is  time  for  feasting,  comrades  mine. 

Till  now,  from  out  its  ancient  binn 
To  draw  the  Caecuban  was  sin  ; 
The  Queen  still  aimed  the  stroke  of  Fate 
At  Rome  and  at  the  Roman  State. 

She,  with  her  train  !    base,  tainted  herd ! 
She,  drunk  with  fortune  ;   idly  stirred 
With  hope.     The  fire,  that  burned  her  fleet, 
Brought  back  reflection  to  its  seat. 


'6' 


With  Mareotic  wine  inflamed 
Her  brain  grew  dizzy  ;    but  was  tamed, 
For  Caesar  drove  her,  and  she  fled, 
And  wore  the  hues  of  genuine  dread. 

As  falcon's  swoop  weak  doves  may  scare, 
As  the  keen  huntsman  tracks  the  hare 
In  cold  Haemonia,  so  he  came 
To  bind  in  chains  the  fateful  Dame. 


44  THE   ODES   OF   HORACE  [.BOOK  I 

But  she  the  coward's  death  abhorred, 
Feared  not,  as  women  fear,  the  sword, 
Nor  used  the  wings  that  ships  provide 
In  some  lone  lurking-place  to  hide. 

Bold  to  survey  with  eye  serene 
The  void,  that  had  her  palace  been, 
She  lodged  the  vipers  on  her  skin 
Where  best  to  drink  the  poison  in. 

Then,  sterner  yet  with  end  foreknown, 
She  brooked  not  her  defeat  to  own, 
A  glorious  soul,  nor  bowed  her  head 
In  haughty  triumph  to  be  led. 


ODE   XXXVIII 

TO    HIS   SERVANT 

OFF  with  Persian  gear,  I  hate  it, 
Hate  the  wreaths  with  limebark  bound. 
Care  not  where  the  latest  roses 
Linger  on  the  ground  : 

Bring  me  myrtle,  nought  but  myrtle  ! 

Myrtle,  boy,  will  well  combine 
Thee  attending,  me  carousing, 

'Neath  the  trellised  vine. 


ODE   I 

TO   ASINIUS   POLLIO 

THE  War,  its  causes,  faults,  and  states, 
That  from  Metellus  Consul  dates ; 
Grim  Fortune's  jest ;   the  pregnant  pacts 
Of  chiefs ;  arms  dyed  with  bloody  acts 

Not  yet  avenged ;  these  themes  supply 
A  stake  where  danger  loads  the  die  ; 
Insidious  ashes  thinly  sheath, 
Along  thy  road,  the  fires  beneath. 

Thy  stately  tragic  Muse  may  shun 
The  stage  awhile.     Thy  labour  done, 
Th'  Athenian  buskin,  in  its  room, 
And  the  high  gift  thou  wilt  resume. 

Pollio,  in  Court  and  Senate  great, 
Prop  of  th'  arraigned,  and  of  the  State 
Those  bays  th'  Illyrian  triumph  gave 
Are  trophies  that  outlive  the  grave. 


46  THE   ODES  OF   HORACE  [BOOK  II 

To-day  the  threatening  trumpet's  bray 
Grates  on  mine  ear;  the  horns  to-day 
Are  rattling,  and  the  flash  of  arms 
Pale  knights  and  startled  steeds  alarms. 

I  seem  to  hear  those  sons  of  fame, 
To  see  them,  soiled,  but  not  with  shame ; 
See  all  that  dwells  on  earth  subdued, 
Save  Cato's  never-yielding  mood. 

Juno,  that  once,  with  all  her  band, 
Fled  from  her  Afric's  helpless  land, 
Hath  now  the  victors'  grandsons  made 
An  offering  to  Jugurtha's  shade. 

What  plain  but,  fat  with  Latian  blood, 
By  funeral  mounds  our  impious  feud 
Tells ;  and  how  Rome's  disaster  fills 
With  echoing  sound  far  Media's  hills! 

What  eddying  race,  what  stream,  but  knows 
Our  tearful  war?     What  wave  but  flows 
The  redder  with  Apulian  slain  ? 
What  coast,  but  blushes  with  the  stain  ? 

Yet  change  not,  Muse,  thy  jests  for  gloom, 

Nor  tones  of  Cean  dirge  assume ; 

No  ;  come,  and  in  Dione's  cave 

I  '11  touch  a  lyre  not  quite  so  grave. 


ODE  II]  THE   ODES   OF   HORACE  47 

ODE   II 

TO   SALUSTIUS 

NO  charm  of  silver  comes  to  birth, 
My  Sallust,  in  the  niggard  earth ; 
Thou  lov'st  not  what  the  mines  produce, 
Until  it  shine  with  ordered  use. 

Long,  long  may  Proculeius  live 
And  father's  love  to  brothers  give, 
Borne  up,  by  fame  that  shall  endure, 
On  wings  from  melting  ray  secure. 

Thou  may'st  a  nobler  realm  control 
By  purging  greed  from  out  thy  soul, 
Than  if  thou  stretch  a  Punic  reign 
O'er  Libyan  coasts,  and  coasts  of  Spain. 

For  the  grim  dropsy  grows  with  food, 
Uncured  till,  driven  from  the  blood, 
The  cause  hath  fled,  and  water  swims 
No  longer  through  the  blanching  limbs. 

The  people,  when  Phraates  mounts 
The  throne  that  Cyrus  held,  accounts 
Him  happy ;   but  the  wise  deny, 
And  bid  them  cease  the  idle  cry. 

The  crown  and  kingdom  safe  alone 
They  deem,  the  laurels  all  his  own 
Of  him,  that  gold  though  heaped  on  high 
Can  pass  with  unreverting  eye. 


48  THE   ODES   OF   HORACE  [BOOK  i; 

ODE   III 

TO   DELLIUS 

AN  even  mind  in  days  of  care, 
And  in  thy  days  of  joy  to  bear 
A  chastened  mood,  remember :   why  ? 
'T  is,  Dellius,  that  thou  hast  to  die. 

Alike,  if  all  thy  life  be  sad, 
Or  festal  season  find  thee  glad, 
On  the  lone  turf  at  ease  recline, 
And  quaff  thy  best  Falernian  wine. 

Why  do  tall  pine  and  poplar  white 
To  weave  their  friendly  shade  delight? 
This  flitting  stream,  why  hath  it  sped 
So  headlong  down  its  wandering  bed  ? 

Bring  wine,  bring  perfumes,  bring  fresh  flowers 
Of  roses,  all  too  brief  their  hours! 
While  purse,  and  age,  and  Sisters  Three 
Permit,  though  dark  their  threads  may  be. 

This  home,  these  glades,  no  longer  thine, 
Which  auburn  Tiber  laps,  resign ; 
Resign  the  towering  heaps  of  gold, 
Which  one  thine  heir,  not  thou,  shall  hold. 


ODE  IV]  THE   ODES   OF   HORACE  49 

Be  hoary  Inachus  thy  sire, 
Or  be  thou  risen  from  the  mire ; 
Be  rich,  or  poor,  it  boots  thee  not : 
Unpitying  Orcus  casts  thy  lot. 

All,  all,  we  drive  to  doom.     The  urn 
Discharges  every  Life  in  turn  : 
For  every  Life,  or  soon  or  late, 
The  boat,  and  endless  exile,  wait. 


ODE    IV 

TO   XANTHIAS 

a  handmaid,  Xanthias  Phoceus? 
'T  is  no  shame  at  all. 
Slave  Briseis  tamed  Achilles, 
Proud  before  his  fall. 

Kingly  Telamonian  Ajax 

Slave  Tecmessa  moved ; 
And  Atrides,  in  mid  triumph, 

Captive  virgin  loved  ; 

When  before  the  Phthian  hero 

Trojan  squadrons  fled, 
Wearied  Greece  an  easier  conquest 

Found  with  Hector  dead. 
4 


5O  THE   ODES   OF   HORACE  [BOOK  II 


Who  can  tell?     Wed  auburn  Phyllis; 

Rich  may  be  your  kin  : 
Could  she  know  her  royal  stock,  and 

Kind  Penates  win  ! 

No,  the  girl  is  not  descended 

From  the  rascal  crowd  : 
Loyal,  clear  of  greed,  she  surely 

Owns  a  mother  proud. 

Arms,  and  face,  and  tapering  ankles 

Unreproached  I  gauge. 
Who  suspects  me  ?     Eight  my  lustres, 

And  my  shield,  mine  age. 


ODE   V 

ON   LALAGE 

HER  neck  beneath  the  yoke  to  set, 
Or  draw  joint  burdens  in  a  pair. 
Thine  heifer  is  not  ripe,  nor  yet 
The  massive  bull's  embrace  to  bear. 

Her  heart  is  in  the  grassy  mead  ; 

With  summer,  in  the  streams  she  drops 
O'erjoyed  the  sportive  calves  to  lead 

In  play  beside  the  willow  copse. 


ODB  VI]  THE   ODES   OF   HORACE  51 

Pluck  not  the  grapes  while  still  they  grow  ; 

In  time  will  Autumn's  warmth  select 
The  bunches,  and  thy  vineyard  show 

In  deep  and  paler  purples  decked. 

She  '11  woo  thee  soon.     What  ages  thee 
Will  ripen  her.     'T  is  passing  now 

The  saucy  time :   and  Lalage 

Shall  court  a  mate,  with  hardy  brow. 

Loved  more  than  changeful  Pholoe, 
Or  Chloris  with  the  shoulder  white: 

Fair  as,  reflected  from  the  sea, 

The  nightly  moon  ;    as  Gyges  bright, 

Who  if  he  stood  the  girls  among, 
The  sharpest  eye  could  scarce  disceni 

What  locks  were  o'er  the  bosom  flung, 
What  features,  boy's  or  maiden's,  learn. 


ODE  VI 

TO   SEPTIMIUS 

SEPTIMIUS!   wilt  thou  come  with  me 
Where  unsubdued  the  Spaniard  breathes 
Or  where,  off  Moorish  coasts,  the  sea 
Apulian  Syrtes  ever  seethes? 


52  THE   ODES   OF   HORACE  [BOOK  II 

Grant  rather  for  my  rest  in  age 
Tibur,  th'  Argeian  founder's  boast. 

Some  solace  should  my  toils  assuage 
By  sea,  by  land,  in  warfare  most. 

If  crooked  Fate  this  prayer  hath  banned, 
Then  would  I  seek  the  flocks  skin-clad 

By  fair  Galesus,  and  the  land 
That  Sparta-born  Phalanthus  had. 

It  smiles  for  me,  that  nook  of  earth : 

Its  honey  yields  to  Hybla  not ; 
With  green  Venafrum's  crop  for  worth 

Its  olive  vies,  that  happy  spot. 

There  spring  is  long  and  winter  soft ; 

Jove  gives  them  ;   and,  so  Bacchus  wills, 
Mount  Aulon  rears  its  vines   aloft, 

And  envies  not  Falernian  hills. 

Let  those  fair  towers  us  both  content; 

They  call,  we  come.     There  thou  shalt  spend 
Thy  willing  teardrops,  to  lament 

O'er  my  warm  ash,  thy  bard  and  friend. 


ODK  VII]  THE   ODES   OF   HORACE  53 

ODE   VII 

TO   HIS   COMRADE   POMPEIUS 

OOFT  with  me,  where  Brutus  fought, 
To  straits  reduced,  say  in  what  wise 
Came  it,  that  thou  art  safely  brought 
Back  to  thy  country's  gods  and  skies  ? 

Pompey,  my  chief  of  comrades !   thou 

And  I  oft  chid  the  lagging  day 
Beside  the  bowl ;    well  crowned  my  brow, 

My  hair  with  Syrian  unguent  gay. 

Philippi's  headlong  rout  we  shared, 

I  parted  from  my  targe,  not  well ; 
When  valour  quailed,  and  they  that  dared 

To  threaten  loud,  inglorious  fell. 

Me  Mercury  in  sable  cloud 

Safe  through  my  foes,  though  trembling,  brought ; 
Thee  backward  to  the  eddying  crowd 

The  war's  tumultuous  billow  caught. 

Come  then,  to  Jove  the  banquet  pay  ; 

'T  is  due  :    beneath  my  laurel-tree 
At  length  thy  limbs  war-wearied  lay, 

Nor  spare  my  cask,  't  is  marked  for  thee. 


54  THE   ODES   OF   HORACE  [BOOK  II 

Its  perfumes  let  that  shell  resign ; 

Fill  tankards  bright,  thy  toils  to  drown 
In  Massic  :   who  shall  quickest  twine 

The  parsley  or  the  myrtle  crown? 

Whom  shall  the  die  of  Venus  tell, 
To  rule  the  feast?     My  bacchic  strain 

Shall  match  the  Edons'.     Aye,  't  is  well 
To  rave  ;   our  friend  is  home  again. 


ODE   VIII 

TO   BARINE 

HADST  thou  but  once,  Barine,  borne 
A  penalty  for  vows  forsworn, 
One  tooth  less  white,  or,  seen  to  fail 
One  single  nail, 

I  might  believe.     But,  more  and  more, 
Just  when  thy  tongue  most  falsely  swore, 
Our  youth  are  slaves,  thy  beauty  rare 
A  public  care. 

Thy  mother's  ashes  ;   night's  dumb  sky  ; 
The  gods,  that  never  chill,  nor  die  ; 
Whole  heaven;   it  answers,  if  on  all, 
Thou  falsely  call. 


ODE  IX]  THE   ODES   OF   HORACE  55 

Venus,  nay  Nymphs  untainted,  smile; 
And  cruel  Cupid,  glad  the  while, 
Heats,  on  his  whetstone  red  with  gore, 
His  arrowy  store. 

Our  youth  grows  up,  by  thee  enthralled, 
A  bondage  new  :    none,  once  installed, 
Will  godless  madam's  chambers  quit, 

Though  threatening  it. 

Old  thrifty  fathers  woe  betide ! 
And  mothers;   and  the  new-made  bride, 
Lest  thou  forbid,  when  husbands  roam, 
The  journey  home. 


ODE   IX 

TO   VALGIUS,   AGAINST   EXCESSIVE   MOURNING 

NOT  always  do  the  rains  descend 
Upon  the  clammy  fields,  my  friend 
Valgius :    nor  with  perpetual  strain 
Do  storms  disturb  the  Caspian  main. 

Armenia  doth  not  always  chill 
With  ice  ;   nor  on  the  Gargan  hill 
In  northern  gales  oaks  always  groan, 
Nor  weeps  the  ash  for  foliage  strown. 


56  THE   ODES   OF   HORACE  [BOOK  II 

Yet  Mystes  lost  remains  thy  theme 
Unchanged.     If  Hesper  rise  and  gleam 
At  even,  or  fly  the  rising  sun, 
Thy  plaint,  thy  passion,  still  are  one. 

Did  three-lived  Nestor  evermore 
His  lost  Antilochus  deplore  ? 
Did  king,  queen,  sisters,  lengthen  so 
O'er  the  young  Troilus  their  woe? 

Let  weak  repinings  cease  at  length  ; 
Sing  rather  the  triumphant  strength 
Of  Caesar,  and  his  latest  deeds 
'Mid  snow-bound  mountains  of  the  Medes. 

Their  river  flows  with  bated  crest ; 
And  the  Gelonian  of  the  west, 
Shut  by  the  bounds  that  Rome  decides, 
In  narrower  precinct  tamgly  rides. 


ODE   X 

TO   LICINIUS 

NEITHER  always  tempt  the  deep. 
Nor,  Licinius,  always  keep, 
Fearing  storms,  the  slippery  beach: 
Such  the  rule  of  life  I  teach. 


OUE  X]  THE   ODES   OF   HORACE  57 

Golden  is  the  middle  state ; 
Love  the  middle  gifts  of  fate, 
Not  the  sloven  squalid  cot, 
Proud  and  envied  palace  not. 

Tallest  pines  must  oftenest  bend, 
And  the  tallest  towers  descend  ; 
Heaviest  fall  from  loftiest  heights : 
'T  is  the  tops,  that  lightning  smites. 

Fear  in  good  times,  hope  in  ill, 
Wise  and  well-trained  bosoms  fill ; 
Angry  winters  come  from  Jove, 
Jove  those  winters  will  remove. 

Is  it  ill?     It  may  be  well. 
Silent  once,  a  lyre  may  swell. 
Phoebus  stirs  the  Muse's  wings, 
Or  his  bended  bow  unstrings. 

Show  thy  spirit,  when  in  straits ; 
Courage  !     If  good  Fortune  waits, 
And  thou  feel  a  toward1  gale, 
Furl  in  time  some  swelling  sail. 

ovpos.     //.  i.  479. 


58  THE   ODES   OF   HORACE  [BOOK  II 

ODE    XI 

TO    QUINTIUS    HIRPINUS 

WHAT  warlike  Spaniards,  Quintius,  mean 
Or  Scythians,  to  inquire  forbear, 
For  Adrian  waters  roll  between : 
Nor  fret  for  life's  small  needed  care. 

Smooth  youth  recedes  with  ebbing  tide, 
And  beauty ;   soon  the  greybeard's  day, 

To  sport  of  frolic  loves  denied, 
Drives  easy  slumbers  far  away. 

No  flowers  in  constant  form  remain, 

The  Moons  with  changing  horn  revolve, 

Nor  can  the  mind's  exhausted  strain 
The  problem  of  '  for  ever '  solve. 

Nay  rather,  under  plane  or  pine 

At  random  stretch ;    our  whitening  hairs, 

While  yet  we  may,  with  roses  twine ; 
Let  Bacchus  chase  our  biting  cares. 

Assyrian  unguent  for  the  head, 

Quick,   boy  !   and  let  the  wine  be  quaffed  ; 

Go  temper  in  the  river's  bed 

The  fire  of  this  Falernian  draught. 


ODE  XII]  THE   ODES  OF   HORACE  59 

And  fetch  that  Lyde,  arrant  jade ; 

Her  ivory  lute  be  at  her  side  ; 
Her  hair  be  dressed  like  Spartan  maid, 

With  comely  topknot  upwards  tied. 


ODE    XII 

TO   MAECENAS 

MATE  not  my  lyre,  its  tender  strain, 
With  blood  that  wild  Numantia  shed, 
Or  Hannibal,  or  Sikel  main 

With  Punic  slaughter  crimson-red. 

Hylaeus  gorged  with  wine  eschew, 

Fierce  Lapiths,  and  that  earthborn  race 

The  hand  of  great  Alcides  slew, 
And  shook  old  Saturn's  dwelling-place, 

That  shining  seat.     Far  better  tell 
Of  Caesar's  wars  in  simple  prose, 

Maecenas !   and  of  kings  who  fell 

By  pride,  and  marched  in  Roman  shows. 

My  Muse,  Licymnia  reigning,  wills 

I  tell  of  her  fast-flashing  eyes, 
Her  honeyed  songs,  her  breast  that  thrills 

With  mutual  passion's  ecstasies. 


60  THE    ODES   OF    HORACE  [BOOK  II 

So  apt  in  all ;   the  dance  to  twine 
In  sportive  game  contending  play, 

Her  arms  with  arms  of  maids  combine, 
And  honour  famous  Dian's  day. 

For  all  that  grows  on  Phrygian   leas, 
Or  stores  Arabian,  wouldst  thou  spare, 

Or  hoards  of  rich   Achaemenes, 
The  flood  of  thy   Licymnia's  hair? 

Her  neck,  the  fiery  kiss  to  catch, 

She  bends :   if  coyly  she  deny, 
Would  have  thee  not  to  ask,  but  snatch  ; 

Or  snatches,  lest  the  moment  fly. 


ODE    XIII 

TO  THE   CURSED   TREE 

ON  evil  day  thou   planted  wast, 
And  reared,    O  tree !    by  impious  hand, 
And,  to   the  planter's  children's  cost, 
For  scandal  of  the  village  planned. 

Just  such  a  man  the  neck  had  broke 
Of  his  own  sire,  and  shed  the  blood 

Of  his  own  guest  by  nightly  stroke, 
And  skilled  in  Colchian  poisons  stood, 


ODB  XIII]  THE   ODES   OF   HORACE  6 1 

And  damned  arts  and  jugglings  all : 

He  planted  thee  on  my  estate, 
Thee,  trunk  accursed,  thee,  doomed  to  fall 

Athwart  thy  luckless  owner's  pate. 

From  day  to  day  what  risks  to  shun 
Who  knows  ?     The  Punic  seamen  dread 

The  Bosporus  ;   but  reck  of  none 
That  other  seas  about  them  spread. 

Rome  fears  the  flying  Parthian's  plan, 
Parthia  the  Roman's  prison-chain  ; 

But  Death's  unlooked-for  stroke  o'er  man 
Hath  triumph  gained,  and  yet  will  gain. 

Proserpine's  kingdom  wrapped  in  gloom, 
The  blessed  in  their  distant  ring, 

King  Aeacus  delivering  doom, 
And  Sappho,  with  Aeolian  string, 

That  chides  her  girls,  I  nearly  saw : 

Alcaeus  too,  with  golden  quill, 
That  did  his  mournful  picture  draw  ; 

Ship's,  war's,  and  exile's  endless  ill. 

The  Shades  drank  in  each  poet's  word 
In  silence  meet  for  sacred  strain, 

But  dearer  to  the  common  herd 
Are  tales  of  war  and  tyrants  slain. 


62  THE   ODES   OF   HORACE  [BOOK  II 


Not  strange.     The  hundred-headed  hound 
Dropped  his  dark  ears  to  songs  like  those, 

And,  in  the  hair  of  Furies  wound, 
Snakes  had  a  moment  of  repose. 

Sound  can  Prometheus,  and  the  sire 
Of  Pelops,  from  their  pains  beguile, 

Orion  too  of  hunting  tire, 

While  lynx  and  lion  rest  the  while. 


ODE   XIV 

TO    POSTUMUS 

AH  !   Postumus  !     Devotion  fails 
The  lapse  of  gliding  years  to  stay, 
With  wrinkled  age  it  nought  avails 
Nor  conjures  conquering  Death  away. 

Think  not  with  daily  hecatomb 

To  alter. iron  Pluto's  mind, 
Him,  that  with  rivers  wrapt  in  gloom, 

Can  Geryon  huge,  and  Tityus,  bind. 

Not  one  that  crops  the  fruits  of  earth, 

King,  starveling  boor  who  cleaves  the  soil, 

Whatever  state,  whatever  birth, 
Can  from  the  fateful  flood  recoil. 


ODE  XV]  THE   ODES   OF   HORACE  63 

In  vain  from  gory  war  we  shrink, 
And  Adria's  hoarse  and  tortured  wave, 

Nor  breath  of  sickly  Auster  drink, 

Through  autumn,  catering  for  the  grave ; 

Visit  we  must  the  sluggish  course 

Of  black  Cocytus,  and  the  cask 
That  faithless  Danaids  fill  perforce, 

And  Sisyphus,  his  endless  task. 

Earth,  home,  and  winsome  wife,  thy  fate 
Will  have  thee  leave ;   and  not  one  tree 

Of  all,  save  cypress  that  we  hate, 
O  transient  lord,  shall  follow  thee. 

A  worthier  heir  thy  wine  will  drain, 

Behind  a  hundred  padlocks  cased, 
And  Caecuban  the  pavement  stain, 

More  meet  for  pontiff's  guests  to  taste. 


ODE   XV 

AGAINST   THE   ABSORPTION   OF   CULTIVATED 
AND   OPEN   LANDS   BY   VILLAS 

THESE  kingly  piles  the  acres  take 
Once  ploughed.    The  ponds  dug  round  us  gain 
Bounds  wider  than  the  Lucrine  lake. 
For  elms,  we  plant  the  unwedded  plane. 


64  THE   ODES  OF   HORACE  [BOOK  II 

Myrtles  abound,  and  violet-beds, 
And  every  flower,  that  yields  a  scent, 

O'er  olive-ground  its  perfume  sheds, 
That  whilome  brought  its  lord  a  rent. 

Dense  laurel-shade  shall  stop  the  rays 
Of  summer.     Ah  !   not  such  the  rule 

Of  Romulus,  nor  Cato's  ways 

Too  rude,  nor  all  the  elder  school. 

Romans  were  poor :   but  yet  they  made 
Rome  greatly  rich.     No  measuring  then 

With  ten-foot  rod  the  colonnade 
Tow'rd  the  cool  North,  for  private  men. 

The  common  turf,  that  grew  at  large, 
Those  ancient  laws  bade  all  respect, 

But  freely  at  the  public  charge 

With  stone  our  towns  and  temples  decked. 


ODE   XVI 

TO   GROSPHUS 

WHEN  clouds  the  moon  with  blackness  shade. 
When  stars  refuse  the  sailors  aid, 
Caught  on  the  broad  Aegean's  breast 
The  shipman  prays  the  gods  for  rest. 

1  The  more  usual  rendering  treats  the  fortuitus  cespes  as  material 
for  houses.  I  have  taken  the  passage  as  a  prohibition  of  encroach- 
ment. 


ODE  XVI]  THE   ODES   OF   HORACE  65 

Rest,  asks  the  Thracian,  wild  in  fight ; 
Rest,  asks  the  Mede,  with  quiver  bright ; 
But  rest,  my  Grosphus,  is  not  sold 
For  purple  robe,  or  gems,  or  gold. 

Nor  lictor  in  the  consul's  train 
Can  stay  the  spirit's  piteous  pain, 
Nor  wealth ;    nor  drive  the  cares  aloof 
That  flit  beneath  the  pannelled  roof. 

A  man,  where  shines  on  humble  board 
The  salt-box  that  his  father  stored, 
Lives  well,  though  poor:   no  fears  molest, 
Nor  greed  of  gain,  his  nightly  rest. 

Why  strenuous,  for  our  little  time, 
To  compass  much  ?   some  other  clime 
Than  ours,  why  covet?     Wander  why 
From  home  ?     Ourselves  we  cannot  fly. 

Grim  Care  the  knightly  train  attends, 
Grim  Care  the  beaked  ships  ascends, 
Outstrips  the  stag,  and  the  east  wind, 
That  chases  clouds,  leaves  far  behind. 

Eschew,  with  present  joys  content, 

The  mind  on  forecast  idly  bent: 

Calm  smiles  the  sourest  chance  can  cheat; 

The  sweetest  is  not  wholly  sweet. 
5 


66  THE   ODES   OF   HORACE  [BOOK  II 

Achilles  falls  before  his  day  ; 
With  years,  Tithonus  wastes  away : 
The  coming  Hour  to  me  may  grant 
The  very  boon  it  bids  thee  want. 

Those  hundred  flocks,  those  Sikel  kine 
Around  thee  lowing,  all  are  thine : 
The  neighing  mare,  in  races  tried, 
Robes  twice  in  Afric's  purple  dyed, 

Thine  too.     A  little  farm  to  use, 

A  faint  breath  of  the  Grecian  muse, 

Me  loyal  Fate  hath  so  endowed, 

And  taught  to  spurn  the  carping  crowd. 


ODE   XVII 

TO   MAECENAS 

WHY  tease  me  with  complaints.     Yes,  why 
'T  is  not  the  gods'  nor  my  design 
That  thou,  Maecenas,  first  should  die, 
O  crown  and  prop  of  all  that  's  mine. 

If  early  death  take  half  my  soul, 
To  follow  should  the  rest  be  loth  ? 

Half  life  is  neither  dear,  nor  whole  ; 
The  self-same  day  shall  end  us  both. 


ODE  XVII]  THE   ODES   OF   HORACE  67 


My  vow  is  not  an  idle  vow ; 

Lead  on  ;    we  breathe  a  common  breath ; 
As  sworn  companions  I  and  thou 

Will  tread  the  road  that  ends  in  death. 

Chimaera,  with  her  fiery  blast, 
Nor  Gyas  and  his  hundred  hands 

Shall  daunt  me,  for  the  lot  is  cast 
By  Justice  and  my  Fate's  commands. 

Let  Libra,  or  let  Scorpio, 

My  birth-hour's  mightier  portent,  reign, 
Or  Capricorn  in  splendour  glow, 

The  tyrant  of  the  Western  main. 

Our  stars  are  kin  in  wondrous  ways. 

From  rebel  Saturn  thou  wert  freed, 
And  Fate,  when  Jove's  ascendant  rays 

Bade  Time's  quick  wings  abate  their  speed. 

The  theatre  thrice  clapped  you  then ; 

My  head  that  falling  tree  had  broke, 
But  Faunus,  guard  of  Mercury's  men, 

With  strong  right  arm  threw  off  the  stroke. 

Remember  then  to  offer,  thou, 
The  victims,  and  the  votive  fane. 

My  humbler  station  will  allow 

To  quit  my  dues  with  lambkin  slain. 


68  THE   ODES   OF   HORACE  [BOOK  II 

ODE    XVIII 

PHILOSOPHY  OF   LIFE 

NO  ceilings,  wrought  in  ivory  or  gold, 
Within  my  house  behold, 
No  beams  Hymettian  here,  on  columns  pressed 

In  farthest  Afric  dressed. 
No  Attalus  chose  me  his  home  to  own 

As  heir,  albeit  unknown ; 

No  well-born  maidens,  my  poor  doors  within, 
Laconian  purples  spin. 

My  wits  abound,  mine  honour  I  support, 

Me  poor  the  rich  men  court. 
I  dun  not  heav'n  for  more,  my  craving  ends, 

Nor  worry  I  my  friends 
Though  potent,  for  new  gifts,  content  to  own 

My  Sabine  farm  alone. 

To-morrow  treads  upon  to-day ;   the  moon, 

New  now,  will  dwindle  soon. 
New  contracts  for  new  marbles  thou  dost  make, 

But  thou  art  near  thy  wake. 
Thou  build'st  afresh,  unheeding  of  the  tomb  ; 

Throw'st  back,  for  wider  room, 
Those  rippled  banks  by  the  soft  Baian  sea, 

Not  wide  enough  for  thee. 


ODB  XIX]  THE   ODES   OF   HORACE  69 

And  how  is  this  ?     Thou  edgest  on  thy  bounds, 

Thy  farm  usurps  the  grounds, 
O  greed  !  that  were  thy  tenant's  !  Exiled,  they 

Plod,  man  and  wife,  their  way, 
And  on  the  breast  their  fathers'  gods,  their  care, 

And  squalid  children  bear. 

And  yet  what  home  more  certain,  than  the  gates 

Of  greedy  Orcus,  waits 
In  Doom's  recess  this  landlord,  and  the  gold 

He  can  no  longer  hold? 
Just  Earth  to  monarch's  child  and  to  the  poor 

Opens  alike  her  door. 

Astute  Prometheus  could  not  bend  his  guard, 

Hell's  turnkey,  for  reward ; 
He  grips  the  sire  of  Pelops,  and  his  line, 

But  freely  will  resign, 
Called  or  uncalled,  the  pauper,  who  shall  close 

His  labours  in  repose. 


ODE   XIX 

PRAISE   OF    BACCHUS 

BACCHUS,  the  lonely  rocks  among, 
(But  who'll  believe  me?)  met  my  view, 
To  Nymphs  for  pupils  teaching  song, 
Goat-footed,  point-eared  Satyrs  too. 


70  THE   ODES   OF   HORACE  [BOOK  II 

Evoe !    new  fears  my  spirit  scare, 
Yet  stormy  joy  my  bosom  thrills, 

All  Bacchic.     Spare  me,  Liber,  spare 
Thy  thyrsus,  and  the  stroke  that  kills. 

Of  founts  which  milk  and  wine  bedew, 
Of  headstrong  Thyads  let  me  tell, 

And  streams  of  honey  sing  anew, 

From  out  the  hollow  trunks  that  fell. 

And  next,  thy  consort's  happy  star  • 

Added  to  heav'n  ;   and,  with  the  race 

Of  Pentheus,  crushed  in  deadly  war, 
Lycurgus  and  his  doom  in  Thrace. 

Great  rivers  and  barbaric  seas 

Thou  rul'st,  and,  in  some  hilly  spot, 

The  hair  of  those  Bistonides, 

Well-drunk,  thou  bind'st  with  snaky  knot. 

The  Giants  wound  their  impious  track 
Athwart  the  steep  of  Jove's  domain, 

But  thou  strong  Rhoetus  hurledst  back, 
With  claw  and  fang  of  lion  slain. 

'  More  apt  for  dance  and  sport  and  jest, 
No  fighter.'     Such  was  rumour's  course. 

But  now  thy  godhead  stands  confessed 
In  war  as  peace  a  central  force. 


ODE  XX]  THE   ODES   OF   HORACE 

Grim  Cerberus  saw  thy  golden  horn, 
And  wagged  his  tail,  of  anger  free ; 

And  when  thou  went'st,  tow'rd  earth  upborne, 
With  all  his  tongues  he  fondled  thee1. 


ODE  XX 

ON  HIS  TRANSLATION  TO   THE   SKIES 

NO  weak,  no  vulgar  wing  shall  bear 
Me,  poet-bird,  through  upper  air, 
As,  quitting  earth  for  good,  I  so 
Leave  envy  and  the  towns  below. 

If  of  poor  parentage  I  came, 

I,  whom  '  beloved  '  thou  deign'st  to  name, 

Maecenas,  such  can  never  lie 

In  Stygian  depths,  such  cannot  die. 

Mine  under-limbs  a  roughened  skin, 
White,  and  a  bird's,  to  show  begin; 
And  downy  feathers  of  a  wing 
From  fingers  and  from  shoulder  spring. 


1  This  Ode  has  some  special  interest  as  illustrating  the  inter- 
mixture of  traditions.  Part  of  what  is  here  assigned  to  Bacchus 
belongs,  and  is  elsewhere  acknowledged  by  Horace  as  belonging, 
to  the  legends  of  Apollo.  So  in  Odes  I.  x.  6,  xxi.  12  the  invention 
of  the  lyre  is  given  to  Mercury. 


72  THE   ODES   OF   HORACE  [BOOK  II 

The  moaning  Bosporus  to  espy, 
I  will  th'  Icarian  flight  outfly, 
A  bird  of  song,  the  Syrtes  pass, 
And  farthest  fields  of  Boreas. 

Dacia,  that  masks  her  fear  of  Rome, 
Colchian,  and  far  Gelonian  home, 
Who  dwells  in  Spain,  who  drinks  of  Rhone, 
Shall  know  me,  and  my  fame  shall  own. 

So  let  mine  empty  funeral  show 
Nor  plaint,  nor  dirge,  nor  moaning  know  : 
Dispense  with  futile  noise ;  and  save 
All  idle  honours  of  the  grave. 


BOOK   III 

ODE   I 

ON   MODERATION 

BEGONE,  vile  mob,  I  bar  my  door, 
Silence!   the  Muses'  priest,  I  bring 
My  gift;    my  strains,  unheard  before, 
To  virgins  and  to  youths  I  sing. 

Kings  firmly  rule  their  subject  realms, 
But  over  kings  Jove  holds  the  rod ; 

The  Giant  brood  he  overwhelms, 
And  moves  all  Nature  with  his  nod. 

One  rears  more  plants,  in  wider  space ; 

One  pleads  his  lineage,  votes  to  gain 
One  vaunts  his  morals  for  a  place, 

And  one  his  clients'  longer  train. 

Necessity's  impartial  law 

For  every  rank  is  still  the  same, 

One  lot  for  high  and  low  to  draw : 
The  urn  hath  room   for  every  name. 


74  THE   ODES   OF   HORACE  [BOOK  ill 

The  sword  hangs  bare  o'er  impious  wrong  ; 

For  it,  Sicilian  cates  will  lack 
Their  dainty  flavour,  nor  shall  song 

Of  bird  or  lyre  bring  slumber  back. 

The  gentle  sleep,  that  rustics  know, 
By  choice  frequents  the  humble  cot ; 

Sweet  Tempe's  vale,  where  Zephyrs  blow, 
And  shaded  banks  disdaining  not. 

Tempestuous  seas  need  not  appal 
The  measured  craving  of  the  wise  ; 

Arcturus  verging  to  his  fall, 
Or  Kid-star  at  his  gloomy  rise. 

The  vineyards  by  the  hailstorm  caught, 
The  blasted  crop,  the  trees  that  swim 

In  floods,  the  scorching  stars,  are  nought, 
Or  winters  pitiless,  to  him. 

Their  realm  is  less,  the  fishes  think, 
When  buildings  in  the  sea  they  spy, 

Contractors'  gangs  their  concrete  sink, 
The  landlord  keenly  watching  by. 

But  Fears  and  Threats  can  clamber  fast 
As  lords  of  land  :   in  wealth's  despite 

On  beaked  yacht  sits  Care  aghast, 
And  rides  behind  the  mounted  knight. 


ODB  II] 


THE   ODES   OF   HORACE 


75 


If  Phrygian  gem  no  pain  can  cure, 
Nor  purple  robe  of  boundless  price, 

Nor  wine  of  stock  Falernian  pure, 
Nor  choicest  Achaemenian  spice; 

Why  doors  that  might  make  Envy  pale? 

Why  build  strange  halls  of  height  sublime? 
Or  why  exchange  my  Sabine  dale 

For  wealth  that  taxes  toil  and  time? 


ODE   II 

ON   THE   OLD   ROMAN   CHARACTER 

LET  hardy  youth  in  warfare  dare 
Robustly  pinching  want  to  bear ; 
The  savage  Parthian  then  shall  fear 
Our  riders  skilled  to  hurl  the  spear. 

Free  air,  and  stir  from  hour  to  hour 
Be  his ;    on  him  from  foeman's  tower 
Some  tyrant's  queen  shall  bend  her  eye, 
The  fair  young  maid  beside  her  sigh, 


Forecasting  sadly,  lest  her  spouse, 
Royal  but  all  untutored,  rouse 
This  lion  fierce,  careering  o'er 
Wild  carnage  and  the  field  of  gore. 


76  THE   ODES   OF   HORACE  [BOOK  III 

'T  is  sweet  for  native  land  to  die, 

'T  is  noble :    Death  takes  them  that  fly : 

For  coward  back  it  has  no  ruth, 

Nor  spares  the  flight  of  dastard  youth. 

To  Virtue  shame  is  all  unknown  ; 
She  shines  with  honours  of  her  own  ; 
Nor,  as  the  public  smile  or  frown, 
Takes  office  up,  or  lays  it  down. 

By  paths  unknown  she  cleaves  the  sky, 
And  lifts  the  souls  too  great  to  die  ; 
She  spurns,  on  pinions  upward  bound, 
The  vulgar  crowd,  the  spongy  ground. 

And  trusty  silence  earns  its  mite. 
One,  Ceres,  blabs  thy  sacred  rite : 
No  common  roof  for  him  with  me, 
No  common  bark  to  tempt  the  sea! 

Neglected,  Jove  oft  smites  good  men 
Mixed  with  the  guilty  herd :    but  when 
Did  Doom,  though  lame,  not  bide  its  time 
To  clutch  the  nape  of  sculking  crime? 


ODE  III]  THE   ODES  OF   HORACE  77 

ODE   III 

ON  JUSTICE 

THE  just  man,  in  his  purpose  strong, 
No  madding  crowd  can  bend  to  wrong. 
The  forceful  tyrant's  brow  and  word, 
Rude  Auster,  fickle  Adria's  lord, 

His  firm-set  spirit  cannot  move, 
Nor  the  great  hand  of  thundering  Jove. 
On  him  all  fearless  would  be  hurled 
The  ruins  of  a  crumbling  world. 

So  errant  Hercules  did  rise, 
And  Pollux,  to  the  blazing  skies  ; 
Near  whom  reclined  Augustus  sips 
The  nectar  with  empurpled  lips. 

So  tigers,  evil  to  subdue, 
Thee,  father  Bacchus,  upwards  drew; 
So,  borne  by  fiery  steeds  of  Mars 
Quirinus  hell  itself  unbars. 

Juno,  the  assenting  gods  among, 
Spake  thus,  '  That  dame  of  alien  tongue, 
That  Judge  befooled  by  Fate  and  Lust, 
Have  shattered  Ilion  into  dust ; 


78  THE   ODES   OF  HORACE  [BOOK  III 

'  To  me  and  Pallas  doomed  a  prey, 
Her  king  and  people,  from  the  day 
When  false  Laomedon  detained 
The  wage  that  gods  by  pact  had  gained. 

'  The  adulterous  wife,  the  guest's  disgrace 
Are  noised  no  more :   no  perjured  race 
Of  Priam  now  by  Hector's  hands 
Repels  the  fierce  Achaian  bands. 

'  That  war  is  past,  sprung  from  our  jars. 
I  waive  my  wrath  :    I  leave  to  Mars 
The  grandson,  hated  now  no  more, 
His  child,  whom  Priestess  Ilia  bore. 

1  To  mount  and  dwell  in  heavenly  sheen, 
To  reckon  in  the  ranks  serene 
Of  gods,  to  quaff  the  nectar's  juice ; 
All  this  I  grant,  for  wonted  use ; 

'  But  only  while  a  breadth  of  sea 

Parts  Rome  from  Troy.     Lords  let  them  be, 

Save  there,  in  every  region  blest : 

Where  Priam  and  where  Paris  rest, 

*  Beasts  must  be  safe  to  breed,  and  kine 
To  trample.     Then  may  stand  and  shine 
The  Capitol :   and  Rome  impose 
Stern  laws  on  vanquished  Median  foes ; 


ODE  III]  THE   ODES   OF   HORACE  79 

1  With  dread  renown  pushed  far  and  wide, 
Yea  widest,  where  the  severing  tide 
Parts  Europe  from  the  southern  shores 
And  flooding  Nile  the  field  restores ; 

'  Still  spurning  gold,  for  gold  is  best 
Unfound,  within  the  earth  at  rest, 
Not  beat  for  human  use  and  gain, 
And  hands  that  holy  things  profane. 

'  Their  arms  shall  touch  Earth's  farthest  bound ; 
Shall  dare  to  search  all  lands  around, 
Where  gathered  clouds  and  rains  to  meet, 
Where  track  the  regions  parched  with  heat 

'  For  warlike  Rome  't  is  thus  foretold. 
But  so,  that,  neither  overbold 
Nor  overfond,  she  be  not  fain 
To  rear  ancestral  Troy  again. 

'  No :    Troy,  reborn  with  omens  ill, 
Her  cup  of  woe  again  shall  fill, 
For  I,  Jove's  sister  and  his  wife, 
Will  lead  the  host  to  wage  the  strife. 

'  Thrice,  Phoebus,  build  thy  brazen  wall ; 
Thrice  by  mine  Argives  it  shall  fall ; 
The  captive  matron  thrice,  forlorn, 
Her  husband  and  her  boys  shall  mourn.' 


80  THE   ODES   OF   HORACE  [BOOK  III 


But  hold,  my  Muse.     These  themes  require 

The  music  of  a  graver  lyre  ; 

The  talk  of  gods  no  more  recall, 

Nor  whittle  great  things  down  to  small. 


ODE   IV 

THE   RULE   OF   THE   MUSES 

DESCEND  from  Heaven,  and  on  thy  flute 
Be  ample,  Queen  Calliope ; 
Or  shouldst  thou  vocal  strains  acute, 
Or  great  Apollo's  lyre,  decree. 

Hark !   for  I  hear,  if  madness  sweet 
Deceive  not:  yes,  to  stray  I  seem 

Through  glade  and  grove,  a  hallowed  seat, 
Refreshed  by  genial  breeze  and  stream. 

Beyond  my  nurse  Apulia's  bound 

In  legend  famous,  me,  a  lad 
Weary  with  sport,  and  slumbering  found, 

The  doves  with  fresh-pulled  foliage  clad 

On  Vultur's  hill ;   a  marvel,  blest 

By  all,  the  Bantian  glades  that  know 

Or  Acherontia's  mountain  nest, 
Or  till  Forentum's  mould,  below. 


ODE  IV]  THE   ODES   OF   HORACE  8 1 


Secure  from  viper's  tooth  I  lay, 

And  bears  :   wrapped,  not  by  mortal  hand, 
In  myrtle  and  in  hallowed  bay : 

A  charmed  life,  by  heaven's  command. 

Yours,  Muses,  yours,  on  Sabine  hill 

Or  cool  Praeneste  to  abide, 
Or  Tibur's  slope,  or  where  ye  will, 

Transparent  Baian  waves  beside. 

Your  springs,  your  choirs:   me,  sworn  to  these, 
Philippi's  rout  and  conquering  foe, 

Nor  damned  trunk,  nor  Sikel  seas 
And  Palinure,  have  laid  me  low. 

My  shallop  shall,  with  you  at  hand, 

The  wild  Symplegades  explore, 
My  feet  shall  tread  the  burning  sand 

That  lies  along  th'  Assyrian  shore. 

Ye  Britons  at  the  stranger  chafe, 
Ye  Spaniards  drink  of  horses'  blood  : 

I  '11  visit  all  both  sound  and  safe, 
Gelonian  bowmen,  Scythian  flood. 

Great  Caesar,  when  he  flies  from  toil — 
The  home  his  wearied  warriors  crave 

Once  given  them  on  Italian  soil — 
Seeks  rest  in  your  Pierian  cave. 
6 


82  THE   ODES   OF   HORACE  [BOOK  III 


Your  counsels  calm  you  give,  and  given 
Repent  not.     One  there  lives,  we  know, 

Who,  from  the  skies  with  lightning  riven, 
The  Titans  and  their  host  laid  low. 


Who  the  dull  earth  and  tossing  main 

Alone  directs  with  even  sway  ; 
Whom  cities  here,  and  realms  of  pain, 

Whom  gods  and  tribes  of  men  obey. 

E'en  Jove  a  mighty  terror  knew 

When,  strong  of  arm,  those  Titans  met, 

Exulting,  with  the  brethren  who 
Would  Pelion  on  Olympus  set. 

Porphyrion  in  stature  vast, 

Typhoeus,  and  strong  Mimas,  failed ; 
Enceladus,  so  bold  to  cast 

Huge  trunks,  and  Rhoetus,  nought  availed. 

For  Pallas  came,  her  aegis  rung  ; 

Came  Vulcan,  Juno's  queenly  might, 
And  on  Apollo's  shoulders  hung 

His  shafts,  and  bow  for  ever  bright. 

The  Delian  and  Patarean  king 
Who  laves  in  fresh  Castalian  dew 

His  locks,  and  holds,  with  sheltering  wing, 
Those  Lycian  brakes  his  childhood  knew. 


ODE  V]  THE   ODES   OF   HORACE  83 

Brute  might  may  rush  in  headlong  course, 
But  tempered  strength  the  gods  make  strong 

And  stronger,  while  they  hate  the  force 
That  madly  stirs  to  deeds  of  wrong. 

Let  hundred-handed  Gyas  bear 

Me  witness  ;   let  Orion,  who 
To  force  Diana's  self  would  dare, 

But  whom  the  virgin's  arrow  slew. 

Earth,  on  her  monster  children  cast, 
Their  doom  in  lurid  hell  deplores  ; 

Despite  that  inner  fiery  blast, 

Huge  Aetna's  mass  unbroken  soars. 

The  vulture  tortures  still  the  lust 

Of  Tityus  with   devouring  pains, 
And  for  his  sin  Pirithous  must 

Still  hopeless  bear  three  hundred  chains. 


ODE   V 

ON   SOLDIERLY   SPIRIT 

JOVE'S  thunder  proves  for  heaven  his  reign 
On  earth  Augustus  shall  be  crowned 
A  god,  who  unto  Rome's  domain 

Hath  Britain  and  the  plaguy  Persian  bound. 


84  THE   ODES   OF   HORACE  [BOOK  III 

One  served  with  Crassus:   yet  he  ties 

His  lot  to  a  barbarian  wife, 
Wretch !   and,  Oh,  sight  for  Senate's  eyes  ! 

With  foes  for  kin  will  close  in  arms  his  life. 

Apulians,  Marsians,  serve  the  Mede  ; 

Our  name,  our  sacred  shields,  forget, 
Nor  garb,  nor  deathless  Vesta  heed, 

And  all  while  Jove  and  Rome  are  standing  yet. 

'T  was  this  that  Regulus  foreknew, 
And  spurned  the  foul  condition  ;   lest 

The  future  such  example  rue, 
Our  captive  soldiers  must  as  captives  rest. 

'T  was  thus  he  spake.     '  These  eyes  have  seen 

Our  standards  hung  in  Punic  fane, 
And  swords,  that  Roman  once  had  been, 

From  unresisting  legions  vilely  ta'en  ; 

'  Have  seen  the  arms  of  Romans  bound 
On  backs  once  free  :   seen  gates  unbarred 

For  passage,  and   a  harvest  found 

On  fields  our  bands  had  once  with  ruin  scarred. 

'  Will  the  repurchased  soldier  dare 
As  once  he  dared  ?     Add  not  the  lie 

To  acted  crime.     Can  wool  repair 

The  colours  that  it  lost,  when  soaked  with  dye  ? 


ODE  V]  THE   ODES   OF   HORACE  85 

'  Ah  no.     True  merit  once  resigned, 
No  trick  nor  feint  will  serve  as  well. 

If,  from  strong  meshes  loosed,  the  hind 
Will  combat,  then  in  these  may  courage  dwell, 

'  Who  cower  before  the  foe  abhorred. 

Will  he  new  Punic  onsets  try, 
Who  on  bound  wrists  hath  felt  the  cord 

Without  a  pang,  and  hath  not  dared  to  die? 

'  Bewildered,  yet  for  life   athirst, 

In  one  he  mingled  peace  and  war; 
Great  Carthage  sees  our  shame  accursed, 

For  our  Italian  fall  how  loftier  far.' 

His  wife's  pure  kiss,  his  babes,  't  is  said, 
He  brushed  away,  nor  looked  around, 

As  one  to  home  and  country  dead, 

But  sternly  set  his  manful  gaze  aground. 

The  wavering  Fathers  then  he  fixed, 

With  words  that  none  but  he  could  say, 

And  so,  his  sorrowing  friends  betwixt 
The  glorious  exile  sped  his  onward  way. 

Full  well  he  knew  he  must  abide 
The  savage  captor's  torturing  wrath, 

Yet  none  the  less  he  thrust  aside 

Obstructing  kin,  and  all  that  barred  his  path  ; 


86  THE   ODES   OF   HORACE  [BOOK  III 

As  though  from  clients'  wrangling  care 
Some  ended  suit  had  set  him  free, 

For  his  Venafran  farm,  or  where 
Tarentum  Sparta-born  salutes  the  sea. 


ODE   VI 

RESTORATION   OF   RELIGION 

THY  fathers'  crimes,  though  guiltless,  thou  shall 
rue, 

Roman,  till  thou  the  fanes  renew, 
And  care  for  each  neglected  shrine, 
And  cleanse  from  smoke  the  forms  divine. 

Thou  rulest,  why  ?     Thou  to  the  gods  dost  bend. 
Here  all  begins,  here  all  must  end. 
From  scorn  of  gods  doth  ever  flow 
On  sad  Hesperia  heaven-sent  woe. 

Monaeses  twice,  and  Pacorus's  troop 
Our  godless  charge  at  one  fell  swoop 
Have  quelled :    the  necklace,  mean  of  old, 
Is  now  replaced  with  Roman  gold. 

Dacian  and  Ethiop  have  destroyed,  almost, 
Rome  with  her  civil  broils  engrossed  : 
One  feared  at  sea,  the  other's  power 
More  apt  to  drive  the  arrowy  shower. 


ODE  VI]  THE   ODES   OF   HORACE  87 

This  age,  so  rich  in  crime,  on  marriage  bed, 
On  kin,  and  homes,  its  filth  hath  shed : 
This  is  the  fount,  to  this  we  owe 
The  ills  that  land  and  folk  o'erflow. 


The  ripening  virgin  now  delights  to  learn 
Ionic  dances  ;   she  will  burn, 
Well  taught  by  art  and  trick  to  move, 
From  head  to  foot  for  lawless  love. 

A  wife,  she  seeks  some  youthful  gallant's  arms, 
Her  husband  drowned  in  wine  :    her  charms 
At  random  given,  to  none  denied, 
None,  whom  extinguished  lights  may  hide. 

Anon,  and  while  her  husband  conscious  lies, 
Some  man  of  cash  will  have  her  rise, 
Some  captain  of  a  ship  from  Spain, 
Who  buys  disgrace,  and  pays  amain. 

The  race  that  dyed  with  Punic  blood  the  seas, 
They  never  sprang  from  stocks  like  these, 
That  strong  Antiochus  o'erthrew, 
That  Hannibal  and  Pyrrhus  slew. 

No:   rustics  brave  a  manful  seed  beheld, 
Expert  the  wood  their  arms  had  felled 
To  fetch  at  their  strict  mother's  nod, 
Or  cleave  with  Sabine  spade  the  clod, 


88  THE   ODES  OF   HORACE  [BOOK  III 


Till  evening  suns  the  lengthening  shadows  cast, 
The  wearied  steers,  set  free  at  last, 
And  bring  the  genial  hour,  when  Light, 
The  car  departing,  yields  to  Night. 

Age  cankers  all  things  :    so  our  grandsires'  time 
Bequeathed  us  one  more  ripe  in  crime  ; 
Our  sires  did  worse  again  beget, 
And  we  shall  yield  the  basest  yet. 


ODE  VII 

TO     ASTERIE 

WHY   these  tears,  Asterie? 
Earliest  breeze  of  spring 
Him,  with  Thynian  wares  to  see, 
Him,  the  youth,  unmatched  in  truth, 
Back  to  thee  will  bring, 

Gyges.     Him  wild  Goat-stars  vexed, 

Far  as  Oricum 

Drove  him  blustering  Notus  next: 
Sleepless  nights,  and  cold  that  bites, 
All  his  limbs  benumb. 

Then  from  one,  his  hostess  pale, 

Couched  in  subtle  tone 
Tempts  his  ear  a  crafty  tale: 
'  Chloe  sighs,  and  Chloe  dies, 
Dies  for  thee  alone.' 


ODE  VII]  THE   ODES   OF   HORACE  89 

Tells  how  nigh,  through  guilty  dame 

(Silly  Proetos  won 
Cruel  plot  of  blood  to  frame), 
Slander's  breath  had  done  to  death 
Chaste  Bellerophon. 

Tells  of  Peleus,  how  he  fled 

From  Hippolyte, 

Nearly  numbered  with  the  dead : 
All  that  leads  to  passion's  deeds, 
Many  an  artful  plea. 

Deafer  than  Icarian  seas, 

He  doth  nothing  care. 
Thou,  lest  young  Enipeus  please, 
Please  too  much,  so  near  to  touch 
And  to  view,  beware. 

Though  along  the  Martian  course 

None  like  him  can  ride, 
None  can  wheel  the  fiery  horse, 
Nor  can  swim  to  match  with  him  • 
Down  the  Tiber's  tide, 

Nightly  shut  thy  door;   nor  gaze 
When  the  pipes  are  shrill : 
He  will  scold  thy  prudish  ways ; 
Scorn  to  hear,  and  persevere 
Hard,  and  harder  still. 


90  THE   ODES   OF   HORACE  [BOOK  III 

ODE   VIII 

TO    MAECENAS 

MARCH'S  Kalends,  single  life: 
Flowers,  and  fragrant  censer ;   why  ? 
These,  you  think,  are  all  at  strife ; 
Coals,  too,  on  the  grass-plot  lie.' 

Thou,  in  either  tongue  adept, 
See  my  goat,  to  Bacchus  vowed, 

For  the  tree,  that  on  me  swept, 
Nearly  gave  me  to  my  shroud. 

Year  by  year  this  day  shall  burst 

Th'  amphor's  seal,  and  taste  the  juice, 

Under  Consul  Tullus  first 

Seasoned  in  the  smoke  for  use. 

Quaff,  Maecenas,  cups  a  score, 

Burn  the  torches  till  the  day, 
Rescued  Flaccus  finds  the  store : 

Wrath  and  uproar,  off  !  away ! 

Banish  thou  thy  cares  for  Rome  : 

Dacian  Cotiso  is  lost ; 
Mad  with  woful  broils  at  home, 

Medes  their  Median  swords  have  crossed. 


ODE  IX]  THE   ODES   OF   HORACE  9 1 

Bondsman  new  and  ancient  foe, 
Late,  Cantabria  wears  the  chain ; 

Scythia,  with  unbended  bow, 

Thinks  to  cede  her  ancient  plain. 

Thou,  no  longer  charged  with  power, 
Though  the  State-ship  somewhat  heave, 

Care  but  little.     Of  the  hour 

Crop  the  sweets,  the  bitters  leave. 


ODE   IX 

HORACE  AND  LYDIA 

HORACE. 

HILE  no  more  welcome  arms  could  twine 
Around  thy  snowy  neck,  than  mine ; 


w 


Thy  smile,  thy  heart,  while  I  possessed, 
Not  Persia's  monarch  lived  as  blessed. 

LYDIA. 

While  thou  didst  feed  no  rival  flame, 
Nor  Lydia  after  Chloe  came, 
Oh  then  thy  Lydia's  echoing  name 
Excelled  e'en  Ilia's  Roman  fame. 

HORACE. 

Me  now  Threician  Chloe  sways, 
Skilled  in  soft  lyre  and  softer  lays; 
My  forfeit  life  I  '11  freely  give, 
So  she,  my  better  life,  may  live. 


92  THE   ODES   OF   HORACE  [BOOK  III 

LYDIA. 

The  son  of  Ornytus  inspires 
My  burning  breast  with  mutual  fires: 
I  '11  face  two  several  deaths  with  joy, 
So  Fate  but  spare  my  Thurian  boy. 

HORACE. 

What,  if  our  ancient  love  awoke, 
And  bound  us  with  its  golden  yoke ; 
If  auburn  Chloe  I  resign, 
And  Lydia  once  again  be  mine  ? 

LYDIA. 

Though  fairer  than  the  stars  is  he, 
Thou  rougher  than  the  Adrian  sea, 
And  fickle  as  light  cork,  yet  I 
With  thee  would  live,  with  thee  would  die. 

ODE   X 

TO   LYCE   IN   BLOOM 

HADST  thou  a  savage  mate,  a  home  upon 
The  farthest  banks  of  Don, 

Yet  wouldst  thou  weep,  nor  leave  me  pining  sore 
To  shiver  at  thy  door. 

Thou  heard'st  the  creaking  gate,  the  moaning  trees 

Between  the  palaces; 
Saw'st  how,  in  clear-cold  air  of  Jove,  the  snows 

To  icy  coating  froze. 


ODE  XI]  THE   ODES   OF   HORACE  93 

A\vay  with  pride ;  lest  Venus  turn  to  curse, 
And  rope  with  wheel  reverse : 

No  prude  thy  father  gendered ;   meant  not  thee 
To  play  Penelope. 

Though  neither  gift,  nor  force  of  prayer,  can  mend  thee 
Nor  lover's  paleness  bend  thee, 

Nor  that  Greek  girl  that  holds  thy  spouse  her  slave, 
Yet  still  thy  suppliants  save. 

Spare  me !   though  cruel  as  the  Moorish  snake, 

And  hard  as  oaks  to  break, 
For  flesh  and  blood  will  bear  no  more  the  strain, 

Nor  soak  in  floods  of  rain. 


ODE    XI 

TO   MERCURY,   ON   HYPERMNESTRA 

THOU  teacher  of  Amphion's  song, 
That  drew  the  very  stones  along, 
Come,  Mercury;   and  Cittern  come, 

Once  spurned  and  dumb 

But  now  with  sevenfold  chord  elate, 
And  dear  to  fanes,  and  halls  of  state, 
Teach  me  some  strain  I  may  endear 
To  Lyde's  ear. 


94  THE   ODES   OF   HORACE  [BOOK  III 

Like  three-year  fillies  pasturing  wide, 
She  skips  and  plays,  all  touch  denied, 
A  maid  whose  age  not  yet  allows 
The  exacting  spouse. 

Thee  tigers  and  thee  woods  obeyed 
And  followed,  and  swift  streams  were  stayed ; 
Gate-keeper  Cerberus,  huge  to  see, 
Was  coaxed  by  thee, 

Whose  Fury-head  doth  bear  a  wreath 
Of  hundred  snakes,  and  noisome  breath 
From  out  the  three-tongued  mouth  doth  pour, 
And  filthy  gore. 

Then  Tityus  and  Ixion  smiled 
Ungainly ;   and,  by  thee  beguiled, 
The  Danaids  with  the  empty  cask 
Forgot  their  task. 

The  crime,  the  doom  let  Lyd&  learn 
Of  guilty  damsels ;   how  the  urn 
Ran  void  of  water,  and  their  late 
But  certain  fate, 

Which  follows  guilt,  aye  down  in  hell. 
Those  godless — who  of  worse  could  tell? 
They  dared  to  murder  each  her  lord 
With  stroke  of  sword. 


ODE  XI]  THE   ODES   OF   HORACE  95 

One,  worthy  of  the  nuptial  flame, 
One  put  her  perjured  sire  to  shame, 
But  one  alone :    consign  her  name 
To  deathless  fame ! 

Her  youthful  lord  she  warns  '  Arise, 
Lest  sleep  eternal  seal  thine  eyes 
Sent  whence  thou  knovv'st  not :   foil  my  sire, 
And  sisters  dire : 

'  Each,  as  a  lioness  that  preys 
On  calves,  her  doom-struck  husband  slays: 
But  I  nor  strike  thee,  nor  detain 
In  captive's  chain. 

'  Let  cruel  fetters  be  my  fate 
For  mercy  to  my  hapless  mate; 
Let  far  Numidian  home  be  mine 
Beyond  the  brine: 

'  While  night  and  Venus  aid,  and  wind, 
O  speed  thee:   be  the  omens  kind: 
And  on  my  tomb  a  pitying  word 
Of  love  record.' 


96  THE   ODES  OF  HORACE  [BOOK  III 

ODE  XII 

TO    NEOBULE 

WOFUL  girls!  who  neither  may 
Wash  in  wine  their  cares  away, 
Nor  in  loving  gambols  play, 
Or  they  hear  some  uncle  scold 
Till  their  blood  runs  icy  cold. 

Citherea's  winged  son 
Thieving  thy  wool-basket  won, 
And  thy  care  for  toil  was  done 
With  the  web  that  Hebrus  stole, 
Liparaean,  beauty's  soul. 

Not  Bellerophon  would  try 
On  the  horse  with  him  to  vie: 
Runner,  boxer,  none  so  high : 
See  him  too  in  Tiber's  wave 
His  anointed  shoulders  lave! 

Neobule!   his  the  art, 
When  the  herds  aroused  start, 
Stags  to  pierce  with  flying  dart : 
Or  to  strike  the  boar  as  quick, 
Sculking  where  the  woods  are  thick. 


ODE  XIII]  THE   ODES   OF   HORACE  97 


ODE   XIII 

TO   THE    FOUNTAIN   OF    BANDUSIA 

O  FOUNTAIN  meet  for  flowers  and  wine, 
Bandusia,  more  than  mirror  bright, 
A  kid  to-morrow  shall  be  thine 

Whose  forehead  augurs  love's  delight, 

And  battle's,  by  the  bursting  horn ; 

But  vainly :   ere  the  sun  be  high, 
His  blood,  although  so  wanton-born, 

Thy  cooling  streams  with  red  shall  dye. 

Thee  never  doth  the  Dog-star  strike 
At  fiercest :   to  plough- wearied  ox 

Thy  cool,  refreshing  touch  alike 

Thou  lendest,  and  to  ranging  flocks. 

Thee  too  with  lame  my  Muse  shall  bless, 

Still  singing  how  the  ilex  bends 
O'er  the  deep-hollowed  cave's  recess, 

From  whence  thy  babbling  stream  descends. 


98  THE   ODES   OF   HORACE  [BOOK  III 

ODE  XIV 

TO   ROME 

IF  Caesar  went  from  Rome,  with  life 
To  win  like  Hercules  his  bays, 
He  brings  from  Spain  and  ended  strife 
A  victor's  praise. 

Thou  wife,  who  lov'st  no  lord  but  one, 
(Due  rites  performed) ;  in  suppliant  wreath, 
Ye  matrons,  grateful  for  a  son 

Just  snatched  from  death ; 

With  Caesar's  sister  all  come  forth; 
And  you,  each  youth,  each  youthful  bride, 
Refrain  from  words  of  little  worth 
That  woe  betide. 

Nor  care  nor  mourning  shall  beset 
This  happy  day:   no  tumult  I 
While  Caesar  rules,  can  dread,  nor  yet 
By  force  to  die. 

Boy,  carry  nard  and  garlands  round, 
And  wine  that  knew  the  Marsian  war, 
That  Spartacus  had  never  found, 

Though  roving  far. 


ODE  XV]  THE   ODES   OF   HORACE  99 

Let  musical  Neaera's  hair 

Be  gathered  in  myrrh-breathing  knot : 

If  keepers  stop  thy  way,  forbear 

And  quit  the  spot. 

My  taste  for  frays  provoked  amiss 

Grey  hairs  have  purged  :  my  youth's  hot  morn, 

With  Plancus  Consul,  wrongs  like  this 

Would  not  have  borne. 


ODE    XV 

TO   CHLORIS,   A   CRONE 

WIFE  of  Ibycus  the  poor, 
Play  thy  knavish  tricks  no  more : 
All  thy  plots  new  scandal  make, 
Thou  art  near  thy  funeral  wake. 
Cease  to  sport  with  girls  at  all, 
Cast  not  o'er  the  stars  a  pall. 
What  may  fit  for  Pholoe, 
Need  not,  Chloris,  fit  with  thee, 
She  a  Thyad's  part  espouses, 
Whom  the  beaten  timbrel  rouses ; 
Dwellings  of  the  youth  she  storms. 
To  her  passion  she  conforms, 
And,  by  love  for  Nothus  bid, 
Capers  like  a  wanton  kid. 


IOO  THE   ODES   OF   HORACE  [BOOK  III 

Not  for  thee  the  cittern's  pose  ; 
Spin  the  wool  Luceria  grows, 
Nor  aspire  to  crimson  rose  ; 
Nor,  old  crone  !   when  at  thine  ease, 
Drain  the  wine-casks  to  the  lees. 


ODE   XVI 

THE   PHILOSOPHY   OF    LIFE 

THE  brazen  tower,  strong  gates  well  barred, 
And  wakeful  dogs,  had  sure  availed, 
Imprisoned  Danae  to  guard, 
And  prowling  ravishers  had  failed. 

But  Jove  and  Venus  saw,  and  mocked 

Acrisius  jailor  of  the  maid  ; 
They  knew  the  way  could  not  be  blocked, 

If  Jove  in  gold  would  make  the  raid. 

Gold,  mightier  than  the  lightning  stroke, 
The  guard  can  pierce,  the  rock  can  burst. 

So  the  Greek  augur's  fortune  broke, 
By  force  of  bribe  with  ruin  cursed. 

King  Philip  clave  by  tools  like  these 
All  city-gates,  and  sapped  the  throne 

Of  rivals.     They  that  plough  the  seas, 
Though  fierce,  this  fascination  own. 


ODE  XVI]  THE   ODES   OF   HORACE  IOI 


But  care  with  growing  treasure  grows, 
And  thirst  for  more.     With  right  I  dread, 

Maecenas,  pride  of  knightly  rows  1, 
Above  the  ranks  to  lift  my  head. 

Deny  thyself;  the  gods  will  give 
More  freely.     Bare,  I  march  to  find 

The  camp  of  them  that  sparely  live, 
The  camp  of  wealth  I  leave  behind. 

I  shine  more  bright  with  modest  means 
Than  if  within  my  barns  I  store 

All  that  the  Apulian  tiller  gleans, 

And,  choked  with  treasures,  were  but  poor. 

A  crop  in  sure  possession  held, 
A  silver  stream,  a  wood,  if  small ; 

Such  happy  share  had  far  excelled 
All  Afric's  corn-lands  held  in  thrall. 

No  honey  from  Calabrian  bees, 

No  Laestrygonian  jars  of  wine 
Grown  ripe,  no  wools  on  Gaulish  leas 

Rich-pastured ;   none  of  these  are  mine. 

I  suffer  not  the  pinch  of  need, 

And  thou  would'st  not  deny  what  lacks  ; 
Better  to  curb  unruly  greed 

That  so  thy  purse  may  rounder  wax, 

1  The  rows  of  equestrian  seats  in  the  theatre. 


102  THE   ODES   OF   HORACE  BOOK  III 

Than  rule  o'er  wide  Mygdonia's  plains. 

Much  they  shall  want,  who  much  demand, 
'T  is  best,  when  Heaven '  for  man  ordains 

Enough,  but  with  a  thrifty  hand. 

ODE   XVII 

TO   AELIUS   LAMIA 

THOU,  like  the  elder  Lamiae, 
Branch  of  the  pristine  Lamian  tree  ! 
(So,  Aelius,  rumour  runs,  and  so 
Their  annals,  of  old  memory,  go  ; ) 

The  founder  of  thy  stock,  't  is  told, 
The  Formian  walls  possessed  of  old, 
And  ruled  where  lapping  Liris  pours 
His  current  on  Marica's  shores; 

So  wide  his  sway.     To-morrow's  blast 
Of  Eurus  o'er  those  banks  will  cast 
Vile  seaweed  and  a  cloud  of  leaves ; 
Unless  the  raven's  sign  deceives. 

Then  heap  dry  logs,  while  time  allows  ; 
To  household  gods  discharge  thy  vows  ; 
To-morrow  a  young  porker  slay, 
And  let  thine  house  make  holiday. 

1  Dcus.  One  of  the  instances  where  Horace  speaks  of  God  in- 
dividually ;  not,  as  is  more  usual  with  him,  the  gods  collectively  or 
generally. 


ODE  XVIII]  THE   ODES   OF   HORACE  103 


ODE  XVIII 

TO   FAUNUS 

THE  scampering  Nymphs  be  free  to  scare  ; 
But,  Faunus,  through  my  sunny  grounds 
Steal  gently,  and  my  fatlings  spare 

Upon  thy  rounds. 

The  season's  kid  thy  grace  bespeaks, 

The  bowl  of  wine  is  brimming  well, 
Love's  mate :   the  antique  altar  reeks 

With  savoury  smell. 

Soon  as  December's  Nones  return, 

The  flock  from  grazing  pass  to  play, 
Both  ox  unyoked  and  village  earn 
Their  holiday. 

Wolves  prowl,  with  fearless  lambs  around  ; 

The  leaf  is  falling  from  the  oak; 
The  merry  ditcher  stamps  the  ground 
With  triple  stroke. 


IO4  THE   ODES   OF   HORACE  [BOOK  III 

ODE  XIX 

TO   TELEPHUS 

r  I  ^HE  years  from  Inachus  you  count 

To  Codrus,  keen  for  Greece  to  die, 
And  then  to  Aeacus  remount, 
And  sacred  Ilion's  captive  cry. 

But  how  to  purchase  Chian  old, 
And  how  to  make  my  water  hot, 

Where,  at  what  rent,  to  bar  the  cold 
In  winter  time,  thou  tellest  not. 

A  cup  to  Midnight  I  design, 

Quick,  boy !   to  this  new  moon  a  cup, 

And  to  Muraena:   three,  or  nine, 
Our  ladles  serve  us ;   mix  them  up. 

The  bard,  that  loves  the  Muses  nine, 

Will  still  his  thrice  three  draughts  obtain, 

Though  Graces  three  undraped  combine, 
And  would  our  cups  to  three  restrain 

For  fear  of  brawls.     The  hour  is  ripe : 

To  madness  for  a  moment  fall, 
Strike  up  the  Berecynthian  pipe, 

Fetch  lyre  and  fife  from  off  the  wall. 


ODE  XX]  THE   ODES   OF   HORACE  105 

Go,  scatter  roses ;   I  detest 

The  stingy  hand.     See,  Lycus  hears 

With  spite  our  orgies ;   and  the  guest 
Too  fair  for  his  decrepit  years. 

Thee  Telephus,  as  Vesper  fair, 
The  ripening  Rhoda  pants  to  win, 

Thee  gleaming  with  the  clustered  hair  ; 
For  Glycera's  love  I  burn  within. 


ODE   XX 

TO    PYRRHUS 

FOOLHARDY    Pyrrhus,  to  distress 
Cubs  of  Gaetulian  lioness  ! 
Soon,  dastard  spoiler,  shalt  thou  yield 
The  battlefield. 

If,  winding  through  the  rival  band 
To  seek  Nearchus,  she  be  scanned, 
How  sharp  the  match  !    will  you,  or  she, 
The  conqueror  be  ? 

Thy  nimble  arrows  from  the  sheath 
Draw'st  thou  ?   she  sharpens  grinding  teeth 
Beneath  the  umpire's  foot  the  prize 
Dishonoured  lies  ; 


106  THE   ODES   OF   HORACE  [BOOK  III 


And  then  he  cools  in  breezy  air 
His  shoulders,  spread  with  perfumed  hair: 
Like  Nireus,  or  the  stripling  torn 
From  Ida's  bourn. 


ODE   XXI 

TO    HIS    CASK 

WITH  Manlius  Consul  came  to  life 
Both  I  and  thou :   and,  bring  me  jest, 
Or  spleen,  or  madding  wars,  or  strife, 
Or,  kindlier  far,  a  dreamless  rest, 

Call  how  thou  wilt  thy  Massic  wine, 
'T  is  good  to  draw,  this  best  of  days : 

Out  with  thee,  then  !    Corvinus  mine 
For  draughts,  no  longer  fiery,  prays. 

Though  in  Socratic  thought  he  dips, 
He  's  not  the  man  to  leave  thee  fixed : 

They  say  old  Cato's  virtuous  lips 

Drew  warmth  from  wine,  and  wine  unmixed. 

Thou  prickest  on  the  dullard   sense, 
Yet  gently :   thou  the  wise  man's   soul, 

And  counsel  wrapt  in  reticence 
Revealest  through  the  jovial  bowl. 


ODE  XXIII]  THE   ODES   OF   HORACE  107 

In  drooping  minds  thou  plantest  hope, 
The  poor  equipp'st  with  horns  of  might ; 

Thou  lendest  them  a  strength  to  cope 
With  thrones  of  kings,  or  soldiers  fight. 

Bacchus,  and  Venus  if  she  will, 

And  Graces,  now  with  zones  undone, 

And  lights,  thy  lawful  season  fill, 

Till  stars  are  quenched  in  morning  sun. 

ODE   XXII 

TO   DIANA 

OF  hills  and  groves  thou  guardian  maid, 
Who  sav'st  young  mothers  in  their  pain 
When  thrice  invoked,  and  art  arrayed 
With  threefold  reign : 

Long  o'er  my  villa  lean  the  pine, 

To  which  a  sidelong-striking  boar 
Each  year  I  gladly  bring  as  thine, 
And  shed  his  gore. 

ODE   XXIII 

TO   PHIDYLE 

IF,  each  new  moon,  thy  hands  thou  lift, 
To  Heaven,  my  rustic  Phidyle, 
And  if  thy  Lar  with  perfumed  gift, 
And  grain,  and  swine,  appeased  be, 


108  THE   ODES   OF   HORACE  [BOOK  III 

Your  vines  shall  mock  scirocco  blasts, 
Your  crop  the  withering  blight  survive, 

And  when  the  dangerous  autumn  casts 
The  apple,  still  your  younglings  thrive. 

Yon  heifer,  mark,  beneath  some  oak 

Of  Algidus,  or  on  the  tracks 
Of  Alban  meadows  waits  the  stroke, 

To  stain  with  gore  the  Pontiff's  axe. 

Not  such  for  thee.     Thy  gods  to  sue, 

No  crowd  of  yearlings  slaughterest  thou  : 

Thou  giv'st  those  modest  gods  their  due 
With  rosemary  and  myrtle  bough. 

Though  giftless  hands  the  altar  touch, 
Our  household  gods  gaze  with  content 

On  cake  and  salt,  and  ask  not  such 
As  costliest  offerings  present. 


ODE   XXIV 

REFORMATION 

THOUGH,  richer  than  the  wealth  combined 
Of  Araby  and  teeming  Ind, 
With  thy  substructions  thou  o'erspread 
The  Tuscan  sea,  the  Adrian  bed  ; 


ODE  XXIV]  THE   ODES   OF   HORACE  IOQ 

If  Fate  her  adamantine  clamp 
Upon  thy  topmost  roof  shall  stamp 
Thy  mind  from  fear  thou  wilt  not  loose, 
Thine  head,  from  Death's  unyielding  noose. 

Better  with  nomad  Scythians  roam, 
Whose  travelling  cart  is  all  their  home, 
Or  where  the  ruder  Getae  spread 
From  steppes  unmeasured  raise  their  bread. 

There,  with  a  single  year  content, 
The  tiller  shifts  his  tenement: 
Another,  when  that  labour  ends, 
To  the  self-same  condition  bends. 

The  simple  step-dame  there  will  bless 
With  care  the  children  motherless : 
No  wife  by  wealth  command  procures, 
None  heeds  the  sleek  adulterer's  lures. 

The  best  of  gifts  to  young  from  old 
Virtue,  and  chastity  they  hold 
That  fears  to  meet  a  stranger  twice: 
All  fault  is  crime ;   and  death  the  price. 

Thou,  that  wouldst  impious  slaughter  stay, 
And  civil  frenzy's  rage  allay ; 
Wouldst  '  Father  of  our  Cities  '  read 
Upon  thy  statues,  dare  a  deed  : 


110  THE   ODES   OF   HORACE  [BOOK  III 

An  heir  of  future  fame,  be  bold 
To  curb  this  licence  uncontrolled  : 
We  hated  Virtue  which  we  knew, 
But  laud  it  when  removed  from  view. 

Unless  the  scourge  o'ertake  the  fault, 
Our  sorry  whinings  limp  and  halt ; 
And  laws  are  vain  when  morals  err. 
Do  they  from  torrid  tracts  deter 

Or  lands,  where  Boreas  takes  his  birth, 
And  frozen  snows  congeal  the  earth? 
O'er  all,  their  course  our  merchants  urge, 
And  shipmen's  art  defies  the  surge. 

All  things,  but  shame,  we  can  endure, 
And  one  shame  only,  to  be  poor : 
We  dare,  we  suffer  day  by  day, 
But  flinch  from  Virtue's  arduous  way. 

Quick,  to  the  Capitolian  height, 
As  shouts  and  favouring  crowds  invite; 
Or,  if  indeed  our  crimes  we  mourn, 
The  nearest  sea  will  serve  the  turn. 

Quick,  thither  send  our  woes  untold, 
Jewels,  and  gems,  and  poisoned  gold : 
Then,  for  we  somewhat  still  require, 
Root  out  the  seeds  of  ill  desire. 


ODE  XXV]  THE   ODES   OF   HORACE  1 1 1 

Train  we  these  minds  effeminate 
With  thoughts  and  ways  of  manlier  state. 
Our  highborn  youth  nor  hunts,  nor  rides ; 
He  cannot  clip  the  horse's  sides; 

More  apt  the  Grecian  hoop  to  guide, 
Or  cast  the  die,  our  laws  denied : 
The  while  his  father,  rogue  confessed, 
Swindling  his  comrade,  or  his  guest, 

Heaps  worthless  wealth  for  worthless  child. 
Yes.     Guilty  gold  is  piled,  and  piled. 
And  yet  the  growing  filthy  stuff, 
I  know  not  how,  is  ne'er  enough. 


ODE   XXV 

TO   BACCHUS 

TAKE  me,  Bacchus,  filled  with  thee, 
Where  thou  wilt:  to  grove,  or  grot, 
Cavern,  or  I  care  not  what, 
So  my  theme  great  Caesar  be. 

He  shall  in  the  welkin  shine, 
Gain  the  ear  of  Jove  on  high  ; 
I  things  great  and  fresh  will  try, 

Spoken  by  no  lips  but  mine. 


112  THE   ODES   OF   HORACE  [BOOK  III 

So  the  wakeful  Eviad's  gaze 
Hebrus,  Thrace  all  snowy  white, 
Rhodope,  the  mountain  height 

That  barbarians  tread,  surveys. 

I,  these  groves  and  shores  around 
Wandering,  praise  the  Naiad  King, 
With  his  Maenads,  keen  to  fling 

Toppling  ashes  to  the  ground. 

Mean  and  fleeting  themes  I  scout ; 

But  well  pleased  will  face  the  chance 

Liber's  praises  to  advance, 
And  the  wreath,  his  brows  about. 


ODE   XXVI 

ON    CHLOE 

ERST  the  maidens  prized  me  well, 
And  I  warred,  and  got  me  gain 
Now  my  arms  and  lyre  shall  dwell, 
Seaborn  Venus,  in  thy  fane, 

By  the  left-hand  wall,  disused, 
Torches,  crowbars,  there  I  lay, 

Bows  and  all,  in  heap  confused, 
Once  so  apt  to  break  my  way. 


ODE  XXVII]  THE   ODES   OF   HORACE  113 

Thou  in  Cyprus  dost  preside, 
And  in  Memphis,  void  of  snow : 

Lift  thy  whip;   on  Chloe's  pride 
Just  one  little  stroke  bestow. 


ODE  XXVII 

THE   RAPE   OF   EUROPA 

WITH  littered  fox,  and  lapwing's  call, 
Lanuvian  wolf,  and  pregnant  bitch 
For  omens,  let  the  impious  fall 

Into  the  ditch. 

When  flashing  forth  the  arrowy  snake 

To  fright  their  fiery  nags  is  seen, 
They  quit  the  way  they  thought  to  take. 
I,  augur  keen, 

Ere  yet,  fore-running  rain,  the  crow 

Turn  homeward  to  its  marsh,  I  '11  pray 
The  prophet  raven  to  bestow 

A  smiling  day. 

I  bid  thee,  wheresoe'er  thou  art, 
Be  happy,  not  forgetting  me: 
Nor  pie,  to  left,  nor  crow's  quick  start, 

A  terror  be. 
8 


114  THE   ODES   OF   HORACE  [BOOK  III 

But  see  Orion  sink  and  set; 

How  threatens  Hadria's  darkling  bay 
I  know,  and  how  the  western  wet 
111  tricks  can  play. 

We  leave  to  wives  and  sons  of  foes 

The  dark  sea's  murmur,  and  the  roar, 
The  stir  when  rising  Auster  blows, 

And  smites  the  shore. 

So,  when  Europa  trusting  gave 

The  treacherous  bull  her  snowy  side, 
Sea  monsters,  and  the  boundless  wave 
Tamed  all  her  pride. 

At  dawn  she  culled  the  flowers  afield, 

To  weave  the  Nymphs  a  coronal, 
But  night  the  stars  and  seas  revealed, 
And  those  were  all. 

'O  Father' — when  the  flood  she  crossed, 

And  hundred-citied  Crete  espied — 
'  O  daughter's  name  and  duty  lost,' 

She  maddening  cried; 

'Whence?     Whither?   ah,  the  wakened  sense 

Of  sin !     One  death  for  virgin's  guilt 
Were  small.     Or  has  mine  innocence 
But  fancies  built? 


ODE  XXVII]  THE   ODES   OF   HORACE  115 

'  Some  vision  from  the  ivory  door, 

Begetting  dream.     Oh  it  were  well 
To  pluck  fresh  flowers,  nor  travel  o'er 
That  weary  swell? 

'  Ah,  how  I  would  the  shameful  steer 

Were  set  within  my  wrath !   to  drive 
The  steel,  to  crush  the  horns  once  dear, 
How  would  I  strive  ! 


'  Unshamed  our  household  gods  I  fled, 
Unshamed  live  on.     Ye  powers  above 
That  hear  me,  would  my  steps  were  led 
Where  lions  rove! 


'  These  comely  cheeks  ere  leanness  kill, 

Ere  youth's  sweet  sap  shall  drain  away, 
So  let  me  sink,  in  beauty  still 

The  tiger's  prey. 

'"Why  loth  to  die?     Behold  this  ash; 

Polluted  child,  thou  need'st  but  take  " 
(Thus  cries  my  sire)  "  that  pendent  sash 
Thy  neck  to  break. 

' "  If  beetling  crag  for  death  thou  ask, 

Leap  with  the  winged  storm,  to  die ; 
Else,  child  of  kings,  the  base-born  task 
Stoop  thou  to  ply, 


Il6  THE   ODES   OF   HORACE  [BOOK  III 


' "  As  harlot,  for  some  barbarous  queen." ' 

Stood  Venus  by,  and  slily  smiled, 
And  there,  with  bow  unbent,  was  seen 
To  stand,  her  child. 

Sated  at  length,  '  Have  done/  she  said, 

'With  petulant  wrath!     Thou  shalt  fulfil 
On  that  once  hated,  noble  head 

All,  all  thy  will. 

'  A  'consort  of  high  Jove  thou  art. 

Sigh  not;  great  fortune  greatly  wear; 
Of  the  wide  world  a  mighty  part 

Thy  name  shall  bear.' 


ODE  XXVIII 

TO   LYDE 

TO  Neptune's  festal  day 
What  honour  shall  we  pay? 
Up,  Lyde ;   that  fine  juice, 
Old  Caecuban,  produce; 
Thy  proper  tasks  perform, 
And  take  our  wits  by  storm. 

* 

Thou  seest  the  day  descend, 
Yet  think'st  it  will  not  end  : 


ODE  XXIX]  THE   ODES   OF   HORACE  1 1 7 

Or  why  withhold  from  us 
That  wine  of  Bibulus, 
Still  lingering  in  its  binn 
My  cellar's  nook  within  ? 

Of  Neptune  be  my  song, 
And  all  the  Nereid  throng 
With  tresses  green1;   then  fire 
Thou,  next,  thy  curved  lyre, 
With  great  Latona's  praise, 
And  Cynthia's  arrowy  rays. 

Venus,  the  swan-borne,  she 
Our  crowning  song  shall  be, 
Whom  glittering  Cyclades, 
Cnidos,  and  Paphos,  please  : 
Then,  when  the  hours  grow  dim, 
Old  Night  shall  have  her  hymn. 


ODE  XXIX 

TO    MAECENAS 

O  CHILD  of  Tuscan  royalty, 
A  cask  ne'er  stirred  of  mellow  wine, 
Rose  flowers,  and  oil  for  hair,  with  me 

Have  long  been  stored,  but  marked  as  thine. 

1  virides. 


Il8  THE   ODES   OF   HORACE  [BOOK  III 


Quick !     Neither  slopes  of  Aesulae, 

Nor  dripping  Tibur  always  view, 
Nor  summits  where  by  fate's  decree 

Telegonus  his  father  slew. 

Redundance  makes  the  taste  too  nice  ; 

Quit  tow'rs  that  mount  so  near  the  clouds : 
Let  not  the  City  thee  entice, 

Her  wealth,  her  smoke,  her  din  of  crowds. 

'T  is  change  that  rich  men  mostly  love  ; 

The  lowly  roof,  and  simple  fare 
But  clean,  no  purple  draped  above, 

Full  oft  have  smoothed  the  brow  of  care. 

The  heavens  are  hot,  with  Procyon's  ray, 

And  Lion's  fire ;   now  blazes  out 
The  sire  of  fair  Andromeda: 

The  sun  has  scorched  the  land  with  drought. 

The  swain  to  brooks  and  shadowing  trees 
Guides  drowsy  sheep,  and  to  the  brakes 

Silvanus  haunts ;   the  inconstant  breeze 
The  still  and  silent  shore  forsakes. 

A  statesman,  how  to  guide  the  helm, 

And  what  to  fear  thou  studiest 
From  Seres,  and  the  Bactrian  realm 

Of  Cyrus,  and  the  Don's  unrest. 


ODE  XXIX]  THE   ODES  OF   HORACE  1 19 

Of  purpose,  God  all  future  doom 
Wraps  in  a  darkness  thick  as  night, 

And  smiles  in  scorn,  if  man  presume 
Beyond  the  boundary  lines  of  right. 

Hold  fast  the  present.     All  beside 
Shifts,  as  a  shifting  stream  will  now 

Tow'rd  Tuscan  waters  gently  glide, 
Then  hurl  from  off  some  craggy  brow 

Boulders  and  trees,  and  flocks  and  sheds, 
With  woods'  and  mountains'  echoing  sound ; 

As  the  wild  deluge  fills  the  beds 
And  bursts  the  margins  all  around. 

Self-ruled,  light-hearted  shall  he  be, 
Who  daily  '  I  have  lived,'  can  say, 

Dark  tempests  let  the  Sire  decree, 
Or  brightness,  for  the  coming  day. 

Yet  cannot  he  the  bygone  days 
Unmake,  or  hold  the  past  undone, 

Nor  can  with  utmost  might  erase 

The  work  of  hours  whose  glass  is  run. 

Unpitying  Fortune  still  resolves 

Her  wanton  pastime  to  pursue, 
Her  honours  here  or  there  devolves, 

Now  favouring  me,  now  helping  you. 


120  THE   ODES   OF   HORACE  [BOOK  III 


She  bides,  't  is  well.     But  if  she  stirs 
One  feather,  I  her  gifts  resign ; 

I  don  my  Virtue's  robe,  not  hers, 
And  claim  undowered  Worth  for  mine. 

If  groans  the  mast,  when  rude  South-West 
Blows  hard,  not  I  with  paltry  prayers 

Will  truckle ;  or  will  bargain,  lest 
My  Cyprian  and  my  Tyrian  wares 

Add  riches  to  the  greedy  deep. 

For  me  through  worst  Aegean  swell 
Shall  Leda's  twins  their  vigil  keep, 

And  my  small  skiff  shall  guard  me  well. 


ODE   XXX 

AN  EPILOGUE 

NOW  have  I  reared  a  monument 
more  durable  than  brass, 
And  one  that  doth  the  royal  scale 

of  pyramids  surpass, 
Nor  shall  defeated  Aquilo 

destroy,  nor  soaking  rain, 
Nor  yet  the  countless  tide  of  years, 
nor  seasons  in  their  train. 


ODK  XXX]  THE   ODES   OF   HORACE  121 

Not  all  of  me  shall  die :   my  praise 

shall  grow,  and  never  end, 
While  pontiff  and  mute  vestal  shall 

the  Capitol  ascend, 
And  so  a  mighty  share  of  me 

shall  Libitina  foil. 
Where  bellows  headstrong  Aufidus, 

where,  on  his  arid  soil, 
King  Daunus  ruled  a  rural  folk, 

of  me  it  shall  be  told 
That,  grown  from  small  to  great,  I  first 

of  all  men  subtly  wrought 
Aeolian  strains  to  unison 

with  our  Italian  thought. 
So  take  thine  honours  earned  by  deeds ; 

and  graciously  do  thou, 
Melpomene,  with  Delphic  bays 

adorn  thy  poet's  brow. 


BOOK   IV 

ODE   I 

TO   VENUS 

THE  feud,  at  rest  for  many  a  day, 
Why  stir  anew?    Have  done,  1  pray. 
I  am  not  now  the  man,  I  ween, 
I  was  when  Cinara  was  Queen. 

Fierce  mother  of  soft  Cupids,  why 
To  bend  rough  limbs  at  fifty,  try 
In  flexure  lithe  ?   Betake  thee,  where 
Youth  calls  thee  back  with  coaxing  prayer. 

Far  better,  in  thy  swan-borne  rides, 
Where  Paulus  Maximus  abides, 
Go  revel :   and  engender  heat 
Within  some  frame  whose  age  is  meet. 

For  noble  he,  and  nobly  trained, 
A  speaker  bold  for  men  arraigned ; 
A  youth  with  hundred  gifts  supplied 
To  bear  thy  trophies  far  and  wide. 


124  THE   ODES   OF   HORACE  [BOOK  IV 

By  Alba's  lake,  in  citron  niche, 
To  mock  some  rival  mean  but  rich, 
With  conqueror's  smile,  for  record  here 
Thy  marble  image  he  will  rear. 

Abundant  incense  shall  salute 

Thy  nostrils;   and  the  lyre,  and  flute, 

And  Berecynthian  pipe  prolong 

The  dear  delight,  with  mingled  song. 

Twice  tender  maids  on  all  the  days 
And  boys  thy  force  divine  shall  praise; 
And  thrice  their  feet  of  dainty  white 
In  Salian  dance  the  earth  shall  smite. 

Me  nothing  moves ;   nor  maid,  nor  boy, 

Nor  hope  of  friendship's  mutual  joy ; 

In  bouts  of  wine  I  count  not  now, 

Nor  bind  with  fresh-cut  flowers  my  brow1. 


ODE   II 

TO  JULUS   ANTONIUS 

WHO  boasts  to  sing,  as  Pindar  sings, 
He  soars  by  art  on  waxen  wings: 
His  name  shall  for  some  glassy  sea 
A  title  be. 

The  concluding  lines  of  the  Ode  are  purposely  omitted. 


ODE  II]  THE   ODES   OF   HORACE  125 

Like  mountain  stream,  by  rainfall  fed, 
That  bursts  beyond  its  daily  bed, 
So  from  deep  chest,  disdaining  bounds, 
This  minstrel  sounds. 


Apollo's  bay  he  needs  must  win, 
When  his  bold  dithyrambs  begin 
To  vent  new  words,  and  measures  pour 
Unheard  before. 


Or  of  the  gods,  and  god-born  kings, 
Who  quenched  Chimaera's  flame,  he  sings  ; 
Who  smothered  in  the  blood  they  spilt 
The  Centaurs'  guilt. 

So  Elian  winners  gain  their  place 

In  heaven,  and,  great  in  fight  or  race, 

Possessed  of  worthier  honours  live 

Than  sculptors  give. 

Or  some  slain  warrior's  bride  in  tears, 
With  praise  of  all  his  gifts,  he  cheers; 
Strength,  spirit,  virtues  lifted  high, 
Forbids  to  die. 

It  needs  a  swelling  gale,  to  bear 
The  Theban  swan  in  that  high  air. 
By  Tibur's  dewy  bank  and  grove 
I,  Julus,  rove, 


126  THE   ODES   OF   HORACE  [BOOK  IV 


And  as  a  Matine  bee  deflowers 
The  fragrant  thyme,  laborious  hours 
I  while  away,  and,  large  in  care, 

My  songs  prepare. 

Touch  thou  a  bolder  lyre,  what  time 
Caesar  the  sacred  slope  shall  climb, 
With  laurelled  brow,  and,  fierce  in  vain, 
Sicambrian  train. 


Than  whom  kind  Fate  and  gods  in  Heaven 
No  better,  greater  boon  have  given, 
Nor  shall,  though  Time's  great  womb  unfold 
An  age  of  gold. 

Sing  those  glad  days  of  public  sports, 
The  end  of  strife,  the  emptied  courts, 
Our  Caesar  once  again  at  home 

Through  prayer  of  Rome. 

If  I  may  speak  what  men  will  hear, 
My  voice,  its  best,  shall  swell  the  cheer, 
'  O  happy  day ' :   and  loud  proclaim 
Our  Caesar's  name. 

'  lo  triumphe  '  all  the  town 
Not  once,  nor  twice,  will  cry,  and  crown 
Thy  march,  and  bounteous  gods  invoke 
While  altars  smoke. 


ODE  III]  THE   ODES  OF   HORACE  1 2  7 

Ten  bulls,  ten  kine,  shall  thee  acquit ; 
My  means  a  calf  new-weaned  permit, 
Whose  early  days  now  sportive  pass 
In  fattening  grass. 

As  shows  the  moon  but  three  days  born, 
Such  horns  his  budding  front  adorn : 
One  spot  of  snow  doth  lustre  shed, 
The  rest  is  red. 


ODE   III 

TO   MELPOMENE 

IF  with  propitious  eye,  Melpomene, 
A  new-born  babe  thou  see, 
He  never  in  the  stress  of  Isthmian  game, 

Nor  for  Olympian  fame 
Will  struggle ;   nor  shall  War,  with  Delian  leaf, 

Proclaim  him  as  a  chief 

On  our  high  Capitol,  for  threatenings  quelled 
Of  kings  that  had  rebelled. 

No :   but  from  streams  which  fertile  Tibur  loves 

And  in  thick  shadowy  groves 
Aeolian  song  shall  be  his  glorious  choice. 

Me  too :   the  general  voice 


1 28  THE   ODES   OF   HORACE  [BOOK  IV 


Of  Rome,  the  queen  of  cities,  by  its  grace 

Accords  to  me  a  place 
In  its  loved  choir  of  bards:   and  Envy's  claw 

Less  now  my  blood  can  draw. 

Pierian  Muse !   who  of  the  golden  shell 

Temperest  the  sharper  swell, 
And  to  mute  fishes  canst  impart  a  tone 

Swans  might  be  fain  to  own  ; 
If  me  the  finger  of  the  passer-by 

In  Roman  minstrelsy 
Have  marked  for  lord,  thou  didst  it :  if  I  shine 

And  please,  't  is  wholly  thine. 


ODE   IV 

THE   VICTORY   OF  DRUSUS 

JOVE  for  the  prince  of  birds  decreed, 
And  carrier  of  his  thunder  too, 
The  bird  whom  golden  Ganymede 
Too  well  for  trusty  agent  knew. 

Him  youth  and  native  spirit  stirred, 
Unripe  for  toil,  to  quit  his  nest ; 

And  vernal  winds  provoked  the  bird 

His  strength  in  cloudless  heaven  to  test. 


ODE  IV]  THE   ODES   OF   HORACE  1 29 

He  grew  apace  ;   his  rushing  might, 
Swept  headlong  on  the  helpless  flock, 

Then,  keen  with  hunger  and  for  fight, 
On  stalwart  dragons  drove  the  shock. 

And,  as  in  gladsome  meads  astray 
Some  kid  the  lion's  whelp  may  spy, 

Its  tawny  dam  had  weaned  to-day, 
So  soon  by  new-set  fang  to  die, 

Vindelic  hordes  have  Drusus  seen, 
And  Rhaetian,  on  their  Alpine  tracks, 

Whose  use  from  earliest  eld  hath  been 
To  fight  with  Amazonian  axe. 

How  came  it?     This,  and  much  beside, 
We  know  not.     Victors  long  and  far, 

Their  bands  now  fled  in  headlong  tide 
From  youthful  skill  and  Roman  war. 

They  learned  how  well,  with  omens  kind, 
Our  youth  their  sense  and  spirit  gained ; 

How  Caesar,  with  a  father's  mind, 

These  Neroes  in  their  boyhood  trained. 

The  bold  are  children  of  the  bold, 
The  ox,  the  horse  by  mettle  prove 

Their  kin :   the  savage  eagle's  mould 
Engenders  not  the  helpless  dove. 
9 


130  THE   ODES   OF   HORACE  [BOOK  IV 

But  care  will  aid  the  native  gift, 

And  culture  firmer  tissue  gain  ; 
When  conduct  ceases  to  uplift, 

Then  higher  birth  hath  deeper  stain. 

To  these  let  Asdrubal  in  flight 

Let  the  broad  stream  Metaurus,  let 

The  day  that  hath  restored  the  light 
To  Latium's  land,  tell  Rome  her  debt. 

First  day  of  joy,  since  Afric  swept 

In  fury  down  th'  Italian  plain, 
As  flame  from  torch  to  torch  hath  leapt, 

Or  Eurus  lashed  the  solid  main. 

Then  grew  our  youth  in  practised  strength, 
No  more  by  Punic  outrage  wrecked  ; 

And  Roman  fanes  beheld  at  length 
The  statues  of  their  gods  erect. 

Then  spake  the  faithless  Hannibal : 
'  Ye  deer,  of  ravening  wolves  the  prey, 

Pursue  not.     What  can  best  befal 
Is  but  to  sculk  and  flee  away. 

'  This  race,  on  Tuscan  billows  tossed, 
Right  through  to  the  Ausonian  shore 

Its  gods,  from  Ilion  fired  and  lost, 
Its  infants  and  its  greybeards  bore. 


ODB  IV]  THE   ODES   OF   HORACE  13! 

'  Then,  as  on  Algidus  the  oak 

Pruned  by  the  biting  axe  anew, 
From  wounds,  from  deaths,  from  every  stroke 

Resource  and  freshening  vigour  drew. 

'  No  fiercer  portent  Thebes  despoiled 
Or  Colchis :    not  the  Hydra,  when 

Alcides,  rankling  to  be  foiled, 

Saw  the  lopped  limbs  grow  quick  again. 

'  Drown  it  in  floods,  more  fair  't  will  rise ; 

Do  battle,  it  will  overthrow 
With  echoing  fame  thy  victories, 

And  plunge  expectant  dames  in  woe. 

'  No  more  from  me  of  vaunting  tales ; 

'T  is  past ;   all  hope  hath  perished,  all ; 
The  fortune  of  my  nation  fails, 

It  died  with  dying  Asdrubal.' 

These  Claudian  hands  shall  nothing  lack. 

Jove's  care  shall  all  ill  chances  bar, 
Wise  counsel  shall  discern  the  track, 

And  speed  them  through  the  straits  of  war. 


132  THE   ODES  OF   HORACE  [BOOK  IV 

ODE  V 

TO    AUGUSTUS 

BEST  seed  of  gods,  best  keeper  of  the  race 
Of  Romulus,  thou  art  too  long  from  home. 
Thy  word,  giv'n  in  the  Senate's  holy  place, 
Redeem  that  word,  and  come. 

Restore,  good  Prince,  thy  country's  light  of  day, 
For  when   thy  visage  dawns,  like  spring  benign, 
The  hours  more  smoothly  win  their  gracious  way, 
The  suns  more  kindly  shine. 

When  Notus  blows,  and  envious  blasts  detain, 

All  round  the  circle  of  the  rolling  year, 
Beyond  the  breadth  of  the  Carpathian  main, 
Some  youth,  whose  home  is  dear ; 

To  omens,  prayers,  and  vows,  his  mother  turns 

And  bends  her  aching  vision  o'er  the  main, 
With  loyal  longings  so  his  country  yearns 
To  see  her  prince  again. 

For  Ceres  now,  and  Fortune,  nurse  the  seed; 

Suspicion's  breath  from  firm-set  Honour  flees; 
The  safe  ox  traverses  a  tranquil  mead, 
The  sailors,  tranquil  seas. 


ODBV]  THE   ODES   OF   HORACE  133 

The  unpolluted  home  is  free  from  lust ; 

Right  laws,  right  habits,these  have  conquered  crime; 
The  children's  likeness  stamps  the  father's  trust; 
Quick  justice  strikes  in  time. 

Who  cares  how  Parthian,  or  cold  Scythian,  thrives, 
With  what  wild  issue  teem  the  German  woods  ; 
Who  o'er  the  war,  if  only  Caesar  lives, 
Of  fierce  Iberia  broods? 

Each,  passing  his  own  day  at  his  own  doors, 

Trains  vines  athwart  his  trees :    the  joyous  cup 
Then  handles  as  he  wills,  and  thee  adores 
As  god,  in  winding  up. 

As  Hercules  in  Greece,  or  Castor,  may, 

So  thou  hast  our  libations  and  our  prayers ; 
Before  our  Lares  we,  our  debt  to  pay, 

Thy  godhead  blend  with  theirs. 

'  Good  prince,  prolong  our  halcyon  holiday : ' 
So  we  when  sober,  so  when  mellow  crave, 
Sober  at  sundawn,  mellow  when  his  ray 
Has  sunk  beneath  the  wave. 


134  THE    OD£S   OF    HORACE  [BOOK  IV 

ODE   VI 

APOLLO,   AND   HIS   OWN   OFFICE    AS   POET 

APOLLO !   thee  gross  Tityus  knew, 
Thee  the  lost  race  of  Niobe, 
Of  lying  boast  for  chastener  true  ; 
Achilles  too  had  taste  of  thee, 

O'er  every  foe  victorious  proved 

Save  only  thee  ;   divine  his  race  ; 
Troy  tottered,  and  his  lance,  but  moved, 

Shook  Dardan  towers  to  their  base. 

Yet,  like  some  pine  the  axe  has  bit, 

Or  cypress  bent  to  eastern  blast, 
In  dust  of  Troy,  by  Phoebus  smit, 

His  headlong  frame  the  hero  cast. 

He  did  not  sculk,  that  horse  within, 

That  lied  profanely,  to  beguile 
Those  revels,  and  the  people's  din 

That  neared  its  death,  and  danced  the  while. 

In  naked  sternness  he,  ah  !    shame, 
Seized  infants  innocent  and  dumb, 

Gave  Trojan  babes  to  Danaan  flame, 
Aye,  babes  within  the  mother's  womb. 


ODK  VJ]  THE   ODES   OF   HORACE  135 

'T  was  but  thy  voice,  with  Venus  loved, 
Which  gained  from  Jove  the  firm  behest : 

Aeneas  should,  when  safe  removed, 

Build  walls  with  happier  omens  blessed. 

With  thee  the  Argian  song  was  born, 
Thy  locks  the  Xanthian  stream  bedews ; 

Descend,  Agyieus !   never  shorn, 
Be  champion  of  the  Daunian  Muse. 

To  thee  I  owe  the  art  of  song, 
The  minstrel  soul,  the  poet  name. 

O  youths,  and  maidens,  that  prolong 
The  echo  of  your  fathers'  fame; 

Wards  of  Diana,  skilled  to  draw 

The  bow,  o'er  lynx  and  stag  supreme, 

Hold  fast  my  Lesbian  measure's  law, 
My  Lesbian  time  for  Daunian  theme. 

Then  sing  aloud  Latona's  son, 

And  sing  the  Moon  with  waxing  horn, 

That  speeds  the  circling  months,  begun 
And  ended,  and  that  swells  the  corn. 

Each  bride  shall  say  '  I  sang  that  song 

What  time  the  Jubilee  returned, 
Dear  to  the  gods,  and  not  in  vain 

From  Poet  Horace  aptly  learned.' 


136  THE   ODES   OF   HORACE  [BOOK  IV 


ODE   VII 

TO  TORQUATUS;  THE  CONTRAST  OF 
NATURE  AND  LIFE 

SNOWS  melt  away ;  the  fields  are  flecked  with  grass, 
And  foliage  clothes  the  tree, 
Earth  shifts  her  dress,  the  rivers  shrunken  pass, 
And  travel  to  the  sea. 


The  Graces  three,  and  Nymphs,  no  longer  cower, 

But  twine,  unclad,  the  dance : 
Learn  from  the  changes  of  the  year  and  hour ; 

No  daring  hopes  advance. 

Warm  blow  the  winds ;  on  Spring  shall  Summer  tread, 

Then  yield  herself  her  breath ; 
Now,  Autumn  sheds  her  fruits,  then  Winter,  dead, 

Leads  Nature  back  to  death. 

The  hastening  moons  all  waste  in  heaven  repair : 

We,  when  we  once  descend 
To  Tullus,  Ancus,  sire  Aeneas,  there 

In  dust  and  shadow  end. 

Will  the  gods  grant  a  morrow  for  to-day  ? 

No  mortal  can  declare  ; 
Give !   all  thou  giv'st  with  open  hand  away 

Escapes  thy  greedy  heir. 


Octe  VIII]  THE   ODES   OF   HORACE  137 

Once  thou  art  dead,  once  Minos  on  his  bench 

Thy  doom  for  thee  hath  writ, 
Birth,  eloquence,  devotion,  nought  can  wrench 

Thy  spirit  from  the  pit, 

Torquatus  !     Still  in  Dian's  awful  bond 

Hippolytus  remains  ; 
Nor  from  Pirithous,  in  friendship  fond, 

Can  Theseus  break  his  chains. 


ODE   VIII 

TO   CENSORINUS 

OBLETS  and  vases  would  I  freely  give 

To  them  that  with  me,  Censorinus,  live  ; 
And  tripods,  prize  of  valiant  Greeks.     Nor  worst 
Would  be  thy  portion,  did  my  store-rooms  burst 
With  what  Parrhasius  or  what  Scopas  wrought, 
Through  colours  one,  and  one  through  marble  taught 
Or  gods  or  men  in  likeness  to  present. 

But  such  are  not  my  treasures,  nor  thy  bent. 
Not  these  delights  thou  cravest ;    but  for  song, 
Which  I  can  give  (and  name  the  price),  dost  long. 
True,  words  on  marbles  graven  by  the  State 
Grant  life  and  breath  to  the  departed  great ; 
Yet  neither  these,  nor  worsted  foes'  alarms, 
Nor  to  have  baffled  Hannibal  in  arms, 


138  THE   ODES   OF   HORACE  [BOOK  IV 

Nor  impious  Carthage,  burned  by  him  who  bore 
His  well-earned  name  from  Afric's  conquered  shore — 
None  more  avails  than  our  Calabrian  Muse. 
If  History  fail,  good  deeds  their  guerdon  lose. 
But  for  our  voice,  if  niggardly  it  were, 
How  would  the  son  of  Mars  and  Ilia  fare  ? 
How  Aeacus,  whom  might  of  minstrels  rare, 
Their  grace,  their  favour,  saved  from  the  abyss  ? 
Men  worthy  praise  the  Muse  from  dying  frees, 
And  plants  in  heaven.     So  sturdy  Hercules 
Sits  at  the  feasts  on  high  by  Jove's  decrees: 
So  Leda's  twins,  bright-shining,  at  their  beck 
Oft  have  delivered  stricken  barks  from  wreck: 
And  so,  with  vine-clad  brows,  doth  Bacchus  bless 
His  votary's  prayer,  and  bring  it  to  success. 


.    ODE   IX 

TO   LOLLIUS 

THINK  not  these  words  are  doomed  to  die 
Which,  wedded  to  the  tuneful  string, 
With  newborn  arts  of  minstrelsy 
From  sounding  Aufidus  I  sing. 

If  Homer  on  the  throne  be  set, 

Stesichorus  is  stately  still, 
Alcaeus  brave ;   and  Pindar  yet, 

And  Cean  song  their  places  fill. 


ODE  IX]  THE   ODES   OF   HORACE  139 

The  sportive  tales  Anacreon  told 
Years  have  not  blurred.     Love  cannot  die, 

And  warms  to-day,  and  warmed  of  old 
Th'  Aeolian  maiden's  poesy. 

Were  there  like  Spartan  Helen  none 
That  loved  the  trim  adulterer's  hair, 

The  gold  upon  his  vestments  spun, 
His  train,  his  port,  of  royal  air  ? 

Was  Teucer  first  to  learn  the  use 
Of  Cretan  shafts  ?     Was  Troy  subdued 

At  once  ?     Fought  huge  Idomeneus, 
Or  Sthenelos,  in  solitude  ? 

War  is  the  Muse's  theme.     Not  first 

Deiphobus,  or  Hector's  rage, 
For  their  pure  spouses  dared  the  worst, 

Or  did  for  children  battle  wage. 

Ere  Agamemnon  saw  the  light 

There  lived  brave  men :    but  tearless  all, 

Enfolded  in  eternal  night, 
For  lack  of  sacred  minstrels,  fall. 

Test  hidden  baseness,  buried  worth  ; 

'T  is  little  odds.     So,  Lollius,  I 
Will  set  thy  deeds  and  virtues  forth ; 

Too  many  and  too  great  to  die, 


140  THE   ODES   OF   HORACE  [BOOK  IV 

And  moulder,  dark  Oblivion's  prey. 

Thou  hast  a  soul  for  high  affairs, 
Art  formed  to  hold  unchanged  thy  way, 

When  Fortune  smiles,  or  Fortune  scares. 

O  scourge  of  greed  and  trick,  O  freed 
From  Money's  all-absorbing  sway, 

Who,  whensoe'er  the  State  had  need, 
No  consul  of  the  year  or  day, 

Took'st  not  the  useful  for  the  good, 

Flung'st  back  the  guilty  gift  with  scorn, 

Through  adverse  hosts  along  thy  way 
In  Virtue's  arms  triumphant  borne. 

Not  him  wilt  thou  for  happy  bless, 
Whose  goods  are  large.  Far  happier  he, 

Who  shall  for  wisdom's  use  possess 
The  bounties  that  the  gods  decree. 

And  pinching  poverty  can  bear, 

And  baseness  more  than  death  can  dread. 

For  love  of  friends,  or  country's  care, 
That  man  will  gladly  give  his  head. 


ODE  XI]  THE   ODES   OF   HORACE  141 

ODE  X 

TO   LIGURINUS 

O  STRONG  in  gifts  of  love,  yet  cruel  still, 
When  winter,  all  unsought,  thy  pride  shall  kill, 
When  locks  no  more  about  thy  shoulders  play, 
And  hues,  that  beat  the  roses,  fade  away  ; 
Thou,  Ligurinus,  changed  to  rugged  face, 
Shalt  cry,  when  told  by  mirrors  thy  disgrace, 
'  Why  had  my  boyhood  not  mine  age's  flame, 
Or  else  mine  age  those  youthful  cheeks  the  same  ? ' 

ODE  XI 

TO  PHYLLIS 

I   HAVE  a  cask  of  Alban  wine, 
Phyllis,  that  counts  its  years  at  nine, 
And  parsley  in  my  garden-grounds 
For  garlands.     Ivy  too  abounds 

To  deck  thy  shining  tresses.     Gleams 
Mine  house  with  plate.     Mine  altar  seems. 
While  vervain  chaste  around  it  lies, 
To  crave  its  lamb  for  sacrifice. 

All  hands  are  busy.     Boy  and  girl, 
They  run,  they  jostle.     See  the  curl 
From  tips  of  quivering  flame  arise, 
And  dusky  smoke  affront  the  skies. 


142  THE   ODES   OF   HORACE  [BOOK  IV 

But  know  what  cause  our  feasting  moves: 
'T  is  April  :   April  Venus  loves  : 
We  meet  to  celebrate  the  Ides  : 
That  day  the  sacred  month  divides. 

I  hold  this  day  of  passing  worth, 
Aye,  worthy  as  my  day  of  birth, 
For,  let  its  earliest  ray  appear, 
Maecenas  counts  another  year. 

Thou  courtest  Telephus  :   he  's  caught  : 
No  prize  of  yours,  dismiss  the  thought  ; 
Caught  by  a  damsel  rich  and  bold, 
And  skilled  in  willing  chains  to  hold. 

Mark,  Phaethon  was  scorched  by  flame, 
Ambition's  towering  hopes  to  tame. 
Winged  Pegasus  who  scorned  to  bear 
An  earthly  rider  in  the  air, 

Bids  thee  observe  thy  proper  scope. 
Esteem  as  crime  unlawful  hope. 
Shun  ill-assorted  bonds.     And  now, 
Since  last  of  all  my  loves  art  thou, 

For  woman  warms  me  never  more, 
Come  hither  ;   con  my  measures  o'er  : 
Thy  lovely  voice  its  part  will  play, 
And  charm  all  gloomy  care  away. 


ODE  XII]  THE   ODES   OF    HORACE  143 


ODE   XII 

TO    VIRGILIUS 

SEE,  Spring's  companions,  Thracian  gales, 
Now  warm  the  billows,  fill  the  sails  : 
The  soil  is  soft  ;   the  rivers  flow 
Unburdened  by  the  winter  snow. 

The  swallow  builds  ;   and  puts  to  shame 
Still  sorrowing,  the  Cecropian  name  ; 
She,  that  for  Itys  sadly  sings, 
She  scourged  the  barbarous  lusts  of  kings. 

Beside  his  full-fed  sheep,  the  swain 
In  tender  grass,  indites  the  strain, 
And  charms  the  god,  that  loves  to  see 
The  dusky  hills  of  Arcady. 

Client  of  nobles,  Virgil  mine  ! 
Say,  if  thou  lov'st  Calenian  wine 
This  thirsty  season  ?     Then,  with  nard 
Come  buy  it  as  a  fit  reward. 

A  tiny  box  of  nard  will  buy 
From  the  Sulpician  granary 
A  cask,  the  liberal  nurse  of  hope, 
And  meet  with  bitter  care  to  cope. 


144  THE   ODES   OF   HORACE  [BOOK  IV 


How  like  you  this  ?     Be  quick,  and  bring 
Thy  bargained  share  of  offering  ; 
Would  I  could  give  thee  drink  for  nought, 
As  wealth  in  lordly  dwellings  ought. 

Quick  !   ere  the  lurid  death-fire's  day, 
Drive  thou  the  lust  of  gain  away  ! 
Thy  wisdom  with  unwisdom  grace  : 
'T  is  well  to  rave,  in  time  and  place. 


ODE  XIII 

TO   LYCE   IN  DECAY 

LYCfe  !   me  the  gods  have  heard, 
Made  thee  beldam  at  my  word. 
Still  a  beauty,  thou  dost  think, 
Saucy  still  for  sport  and  drink. 

Though  with  creaking  voice  thou  woo, 
Cupid  lags  :   hath  work  to  do 
With  young  Chia's  blooming  cheeks, 
And  her  mouth  that  music  speaks. 

Obstinate  he  passes  by 
Oaks  dried  up  :   he  shuns  thee  ;    why  ? 
For  he  cannot  wrinkles  bear, 
Blackening  teeth,  and  whitening  hair. 


DUE  XIV]  THE   ODES   OF   HORACE  145 

Coan  purples,  gems  that  blaze, 
Will  not  bring  thee  back  the  days 
Writ  in  annals  known  but  past, 
Of  the  time  that  fled  so  fast. 

Beauty,  colour,  gesture's  grace, 
All  are  gone.     Not  this  the  face, 
Not  the  passion-breather,  she 
Once  that  stole  myself  from  me. 

After  Cinara,  thou  wert  great, 
Form  and  charm.     But  Cinara,  Fate 
Quickly  took,  and  left  us  thee 
Grey  and  worn  facsimile, 

Old  as  a  decrepit  crow, 
That  warm  youths  might  see  thee  so, 
Scourging  thee  with  laughter's  lash, 
Once  a  flambeau ;   now  an  ash. 


ODE    XIV 

VICTORY   OF  TIBERIUS 

HOW  may  the  Senate,  how  may  Rome 
Such  free  award  of  honours  give, 
As  that  thy  fame  through  years  to  come 
Shall  still  in  grateful  annals  live? 
10 


146  THE   ODES   OF   HORACE  [BOOK  IV 

Augustus,  first  of  princes  thou, 

Through  every  habitable  zone, 
Whom  the  Vindelic  tribes,  till  now 

Untamed,  for  feats  of  war  have  known. 

And  those  Genausi,  restless  race ; 

Fleet  Breuni:   and  those  forts,  that  frown 
From  Alpine  heights  of  beetling  face, 

Drusus  for  thee  hath  stricken  down, 

Time  after  time.     Then  rushed  apace 

The  elder  Nero  in  his  might, 
The  giant  Rhaeti  oft  to  chase, 

With  omens  good,  in  headlong  flight. 

A  portent  in  the  thickest  fight, 
Oh  with  what  havoc  hath  he  slain 

Those  warriors,  bold  in  freedom's  right ! 
Like  Auster's  blast  upon  the  main, 

What  time  the  Pleiads  drive  the  cloud ; 

So  the  opposing  squadrons  bleed 
When  through  the  blazing  battle's  crowd 

He  drives  his  charger's  fiery  speed. 

So  bull-formed  Aufidus  descends 
On  Daunia,  past  Apulian  shores, 

Then,  swollen  with  rain,  his  barriers  rends, 
And  ruin  o'er  our  harvest  pours. 


ODE  XIV]  THE   ODES   OF   HORACE  147 

So  Claudius  that  barbarian  host 

Of  mailed  men  with  might  o'erthrew, 

His  triumph  gained  that  nothing  cost, 
And  van  and  rearward  fiercely  slew. 

But  thine  the  armies,  omens,  all, 
And  grace  of  gods.     For,  from  the  day 

Of  suppliant  Alexandria's  fall, 

When  town  and  harbour  open  lay, 

Thy  prosperous  fortune,  once  begun, 

Through  three  long  lustres  victory  gave, 

All  praise  upon  thy  triumphs  won, 
All  glory  that  thy  soul  could  crave. 

Cantabrians  thee,  before  untamed, 
Thee  migrant  Scythian,  Indian,  Mede 

Own  for  Hesperia's  bulwark  famed, 
And  queenly  Rome's  defence  indeed. 

Thee  Nile  that  hides  his  fountain-head, 
Thee  hurrying  Tigris,  Ister  thee, 

And,  by  remotest  Britain  spread, 

Th'  obstreperous  monster-breeding  sea, 

Thee  Spain,  with  all  her  stalwart  brood, 
Thee  Gaul  obeys,  that  knows  not  fear: 

Sigambrians  thee,  that  thirst  for  blood, 
Pile  shields  and  targets  to  revere. 


148  THE   ODES   OF   HORACE  [BOOK  IV 


ODE  XV 

TO   AUGUSTUS 

OF  conquering  wars  't  was  my  desire 
To  sing ;   but  Phoebus  with  his  lyre 
Rebuked  me,  lest  my  little  bark  should  be 
Too  slight  for  that  Tyrrhenian  sea. 

Thine  era,  Caesar,  hath  restored 
Crops  to  our  fields:   to  Jove  our  Lord 
Flags,  from  proud  Parthian  pillars  which  we  tore 
And,  wars  extinct,  hath  shut  the  door 

Of  Roman  Janus ;   and  a  yoke 
For  licence,  that  its  bands  had  broke, 
In  measured  order  found ;   and  crime  subdued ; 
And  arts  of  famous  eld  renewed. 

Italian  might,  and  Latium's  name 
By  these  to  an  imperial  fame 
And  majesty  upgrew :   far  forth  they  run 
From  eastern  to  the  western  sun. 

No  force,  till  Caesar's  rule  shall  cease, 
Nor  civil  rage  shall  banish  Peace : 
Nor  passion,  swift  at  forging  swords  for  war, 
Shall  set  our  sister  towns  to  jar. 


ODE  XV]  THE   ODES   OF   HORACE  149 

The  Julian  edict  shall  be  law 
For  those  who  from  deep  Danube  draw ; 
For  Getae,  Seres,  Persian  knaves,  and  those 
Reared  where  the  mighty  Tanais  flows. 

We,  wives  and  children  all  around, 
With  gifts  of  joyous  Liber  crowned, 
Will  first  invoke  the  gods  with  prayer  and  praise, 
On  common  and  on  festal  days 

Then  sing  to  Lydian  pipes  anew 
Deeds  of  old  chiefs,  as  Romans  do, 
And  tell  of  sire  Anchises,  and  the  boy 
Whom  kindly  Venus  bare,  and  Troy. 


CARMEN   SAECULARE 


T)HOEBUS,  and  Dian,  sylvan  queen, 
-•-     Twin  glory  of  the  heavenly  sheen, 
Adored  of  right  and  always,  hear 
And  grant  my  prayer  this  sacred  year; 


When,  bidden  by  the  Sibyl  verse, 
Chaste  youths  and  chosen  maids  rehearse 
Praise  to  those  gods,  and  worship  done, 
Whose  grace  the  sevenfold  hills  have  won. 

Thou  shap'st  the  day  by  eve  and  morn, 

The  same  and  yet  another  born, 

Kind  Sun ;    and  from  thy  shining  dome 

Nought  mayst  thou  see  more  great  than  Rome. 

Lucina,  Genitalis  thou, 

Or  Eilithuia,  favour  now 

Our  mothers:   help  to  bring  aright 

Ripe  healthful  issue  into  light. 


152  THE   ODES   OF   HORACE 

Oh  give  us  offspring,  bless  the  laws, 
Goddess,  set  forth  in  wedlock's  cause ; 
Oh  yoke  our  women,  and  command 
That  crowds  of  children  deck  the  land. 

The  round  of  years,  in  order  due, 

Ten  times  eleven,  brings  anew 

These  chants  and  games,  these  sounds  and  sights, 

Three  shining  days,  three  joyous  nights. 

And  you,  O  Fates,  of  truthful  strain, 
May  firm-set  laws  your  word  maintain 
Told  once  for  all,  and  founded  fast; 
And  give  a  future  like  our  past. 

May  Earth,  all  blest  in  flock  and  field, 
Her  wheaten  crown  for  Ceres  yield, 
And  breezes  light  and  healthful  rains 
Our  yearlings  rear  on  all  the  plains. 

Come  hear  thy   boys,  serene  and  kind, 
Apollo  ;   leave  thy  darts  behind  ; 
And  hear  the  maidens  as  they  pray, 
Thou   horned  queen,  whom  stars  obey. 

If  your  decree  hath  founded  Rome, 
If,  changing  household  gods  and  home, 
A  remnant  was  ordained  to  reach, 
From  Trojan  plains,  the  Tuscan  beach, 


THE   ODES   OF   HORACE  153 

For  whom  unscathed,  through  Troy  ablaze, 
The  good  Aeneas  cleared  the  ways, 
And  freed  them,  and,  of  home  bereft, 
Yet  gave  them  more  than  all  they  left. 

Obedient  youth,  ye  Gods !   and  pure, 
And  peace  for  tranquil  age  assure : 
Wealth,  offspring,  every  gift  and  grace 
Shower  down  on  this  Romulean  race. 

The  high-born  prince  (that  fells  his  foe, 
But  spares  the  victim  once  laid  low,) 
Of  Venus  and  the  Anchisean  line, 
Now  slays  for  you  the  milk-white  kine. 

The  Mede  e'en  now  by  sea  and  land 
Dreads  Alban  axe,  and  Roman  hand ; 
Scythian,  and  Indian,  proud  of  late, 
Ask,  and  our  answer  suppliant  wait. 

Faith,  Peace,  that  Shame  our  fathers  knew, 
And  Honour,  walk  our  streets  anew ; 
Neglect  no  longer  Virtue  chills, 
And  her  rich  horn  kind  Plenty  fills. 

The  Seer,  by  all  the  Muses  crowned, 
Whose  splendent  bow  sheds  glory  round  ; 
Phoebus,  whose  kind  remedial  art 
To  sickening  limbs  can  health  impart, 


154  THE   ODES  OF  HORACE 

If  Palatinian  heights  he  sees, 
And  loves ;   if  Rome  and  Latium  please, 
May  he  prolong  the  Roman  might 
Through  lustres  new,  and  still  more  bright. 

And  Dian,  she,  who  builds  her  shrine 
On  Algidus  and  Aventine, 
To  boyhood's  prayer  give  friendly  ear, 
And  our  Fifteen  benignant  hear. 

Home  then  we  go,  and  mark  the  word ; 
Great  Jove  and  all  the  gods  have  heard 
These  voices,  trained  in  hymns  to  raise 
Apollo's  and  Diana's  praise. 


JSSSSSSKH 


